


To Overcome the Past

by Elverith



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Backstory, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Gen, Headcanon, Human Experimentation, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, Major Character Injury, Medical Torture, Military, Murder, Politics, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:27:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23110933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elverith/pseuds/Elverith
Summary: When Tord moved in with Edd, Matt, and Tom he thought he was done running. The day his past caught up with him was a day he would never forget and the start of becoming who he was meant to be. (ok so, that was vague as hell. This is my headcannon for what happened between Tord leaving Edd's house and coming back. I would like to emphasize that it is all massively headcannon so Tord, Paul, and Patryk are pretty much the only cannon characters in it along with Edd, Matt, and Tom who play a very minor role. This is a story about Tord so it is very focused around him.) UPDATE: I've updated the tags, please take note! this is turning out a lot more... implied dark than originally planned. I really don't write explicit things, but stuff will be referenced that might not be suitable for everyone so please read the notes on the chapters I will give heads up about anything notable. I don't want to accidently surprise anyone in a bad way! UPDATE: it's now finished! I have gone through and edited all the chapters for clarity sake!
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	1. Welcome Home, Son

**Author's Note:**

> reminder: THIS IS BASED OFF OF PERSONAL HEADCANONS. LITERALLY ALL OF THIS IS BARELY CANON ASIDE FROM NAMES AND APPEARANCES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tord didn't know what hit him. Something ripped him from the calm life he'd made for himself in the suburbs of London. Now he's back in the hell he tried so hard to climb out of.
> 
> Recommended listening: "Welcome Home, Son" by Radical Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> re-upload because of some edits and changes! This chapter has very...unique formatting, I apologize, I tried to make it a bit more clear. But in my defense, it is supposed to read a bit fuzzy.

Dull ringing pulsed in Tord’s ears. He smelled blood. It was muffled and piercing at the same time as the blackness that engulfed him flickered slightly. Where was he…? What happened? He hadn’t felt like this in a long time, not since… not since the days he swore he’d never go back to. There was a vague image at the edge of his mind and no matter how hard he concentrated he couldn’t grasp it. The faint glow of yellow was visible in front of him. He knew it... He could feel it. It was warm, soft, safe...? That couldn’t be right. He never felt safe.

The glowing drew closer and he tried to reach for it, to grab it and pull it in, hold it against his chest and keep it there until the growing tightness in his chest went away. He wanted it. He wanted it so badly it was making his arms ache. Something hot and wet slid down his face and he knew he’d fucked up somehow. This wasn’t right. Something was very wrong and he couldn’t remember what. The glowing drew closer now, oddly fast as it moved towards him.

Then everything went black.

“Tord! Can you please MOVE!?”

Tord blinked, standing in the middle of Edd’s living room in front of the TV. Tom was across from him looking as annoyed as one could without eyes. One of Tord’s hands was in his sweatshirt pocket and the other was wrapped around the handle of a pistol that he’d been aiming right at Tom. He blinked in confusion as the memory slowly solidified around him. He made a face at Tom and put the gun away.

“Look. Commie. We can share the fucking TV ok??? Just move aside so I can at least SEE it. You make a better door than a window, asshole.”

“Why would I-... never mind.” For some reason his voice felt far away, like he was watching himself from a distance. Of course it did, this wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. Something was wrong and off… The colors were too bright and the room felt too calm. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Uh… sure, yeah, dumbass. I live here too.” The sarcastic response from Tom on the sofa was expected.

Tord shook his head, “No, you should have been at work. You shouldn’t have been home… something is going to happen and you weren’t supposed to be home…” Had Tom been there? Had he somehow gotten involved? Involved with what…? What was so horrible he couldn’t remember? “Never mind just,” He stepped out from in front of the TV.

There was a pause from the other side of the room, “You seem off. You don’t have that waifu stink that's usually wafting out of your room.” Tom took a sip from his flask, “Did your call girl cancel on you AGAIN?” He snorted at the comment, “besides, I took the day off work to make sure you didn’t burn the house down while Edd was away.

“I think you’re the bigger risk of that.” Tord rolled his eyes and walked over to the sofa and sat down, slouching, “Your sweatshirt alone is a walking fire hazard”. Even now he could smell the reek of alcohol wafting over from across the sofa, pulling him further into believing that this façade was something real. He was at home and he was comfortable, it was just the paranoia that Paul and Patryk kept telling him to get over. Everything was fine and there was no reason to be worried.

“What did we agree on watching anyway?” he glanced at Tom sideways.

“The news.” Tom deadpanned and met the sideways glance with his own dark voids. “I’m not watching a military documentary and you didn’t want to watch Animal planet. So here we are. Watching the news. Like two old ladies that had to move in together because both of our husbands died in the war.” he rolled the voids dramatically.

The TV blared out the latest in politics as the two sat there, staring at the flashing screen. It was an oddly peaceful moment for them especially when compared to their usual amount of screaming and fistfights. It was the closest that they had ever been to relaxed around eachother. Or almost relaxed. Tord’s fingers jumped up and down on the sofa next to him and his leg twitched.

Outside the sun was hitting midday and the houses of the quiet suburban neighborhood remained silent, almost too silent. If it wasn’t for the fact that most people around them worked and no one was home Tord would have been suspicious.

The doorbell clanging jolted them from their complacent stupor. “Who the hell…?” Tom frowned, “No one ever visits us.” There was a weird pause as he glanced at Tord again, “you or me?”

“I’ll get it.” Tord growled, but he was also curious. “It’s not like you wouldn’t scare them immediately with a face like yours.” He got up and strode over to the door, “Ugly as all hell, Tom. and it only gets worse with age.” he smirked and opened the door.

“Hello, Tord.”

The voice was familiar. Too familiar. Old familiar. Tord didn’t even wait for an explanation, his instincts knew better: he slammed the door shut and bolted. Luckily for him, his room was the first door in the short hallway. As he ran, he pulled out the handgun and flipped the safety off. This wasn’t happening. It wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be!!

As soon as he slammed the door to his room open he grabbed a camouflage backpack from under his bed and grabbed an extra clip for the hand gun. This was short notice but the phrase “Train for the worst, become the best” was burned into his mind. He threw open the window in his room and jumped out, leaving it open behind him.

Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. RUN! The adrenaline coursing through his veins carried him farther than he could have gone alone. He jumped fences until he hit the street behind their house then switched to a dead sprint. Just keep going. Make it to the meet up point and call Paul. that was all he had to do.

As soon as he ran through the first intersection, burning pain exploded in his side. He hung in the air for a few seconds before he skidding along the ground. He landing on his backpack, thankfully the canvas taking most of scraping and tearing of the gravel as he slid across the surface of the road. Tires screeched behind him as he gasped for air. The scent of burnt rubber filling his nose.

He winced as his sides started to burn. Broken ribs. Great. Get up. GET UP! RUN! He didn’t want to listen but again, instinct knew better. He pushed himself off the ground, blood running down his arms and his face as he continued to limp forward, picking up speed slightly.

“Tch. I don’t know why you thought once would get him. Hit him again and see if he stays down.” Another familiar voice reached him with the sound of boots slamming into the pavement.

No… how…!? Tord didn’t bother to look, he had gotten back up to a run and his lungs were burning. He needed to hide…somewhere… He coughed viciously but kept pushing himself further.

Suddenly he was yanked backwards by his backpack and all he saw was blue sky and fluffy clouds as his back slammed into the ground. A figure dressed in full fatigues stepped into view. This time the figure didn’t wait. He didn’t pause. He didn’t speak. He pulled his arm back and slammed a fist into the side of Tord’s head.

Black.

The glow faded around him as he drifted back through the empty space. He was cold now… maybe shivering? He really wasn’t sure. It’s hard to tell when he couldn’t move. Why couldn’t he move? The question floated through his mind but he had no way of grasping it to even consider the answer before he was distracted by other thoughts. Was Tom ok? Did they hurt him? Did he even know that something had happened?

The wetness was still on his face as he floated backwards, maybe he was falling? It was hard to tell with no way to orient himself. The ringing in his ears had come back again and he tried to shake his head to make it go away. Something still didn’t make sense…. What was it? Something had been off… how had it happened so easily? So quickly? No one had even looked out a window to respond to the accident. He could faintly smell gasoline around him. It was strong…, growing stronger.

Black.

As soon as his eyes flicked open, he immediately knew why he couldn’t move. Someone, some asshole, had gotten way too excited with the duct tape. He tried to wiggle his wrists, no there was more… rope? Too flat. It didn’t feel right. He glanced around at the empty space he’d been left in. He could feel it moving. Most likely the back of the truck that had hit him during his escape.

Tord glanced down at what he could see of himself. His sweatshirt was filthy with dirt and bloodstains and some stains that he couldn’t quite pinpoint but hadn’t been there before. He squinted to see better in the darkness and to try and identify what was cutting off the circulation from his wrists. Industrial strength zip ties. The kind that held pipes up, ends trimmed short and covered in a nice secure layer of duct tape. Really, it was overkill, but expected.

He could barely breathe. It tasted like there was a used gym sock shoved in his mouth before it was taped shut. Again, overkill, but expected. He could see his backpack in the corner, the pockets torn open and the contents missing, of course. The weirdest part of the set up, though, was the lack of people. He'd at least expected a guard or two, but it was just him in the back of a moving truck, alone. He didn’t know where he was going, but he could guess. How long it would take was a mystery.

His gut twisted as the truck took a precariously fast turn. He couldn’t go back. He hadn’t been away long enough! He hadn’t done enough! He’d barely done anything… this wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair!!! He growled and yelled into the gag. The muffled sounds just bounced off the walls and right back to his own ears. He yelled and screamed and tried to free himself for what felt like hours before a particularly large THUMP made his head slam into the floor and once again, he was swirling around in darkness.

A cold blade pressing against his shoulders and dragging slowly across.

The stinging burn of a needle injecting something into his neck.

The crushing weight of G-force as a plane took off.

His feet dragging behind him as he was pulled.

Choking as something moved in his mouth.

Fabric being pulled off over his head.

A hand grabbing a fistful of his hair.

Burning pain in his ribs exploding.

The smell of blood filling the air.

Blood.

Pain.

Tight.

Pain.

Blood.

Black.

The flashing images had created a disjointed panorama of time passing. Tord wasn’t sure if any of it was real or just some nightmare he hadn’t woken up from yet. The longer time stretched the less he was even sure that he existed, his limbs filled with tingling pricks and even the space between the images, the floating blackness, became more and more cold and fuzzy.

Intense pain yanked him out of the darkness and into a dimly lit room. His eyes fluttered open and threatened to close again as he struggled to breathe. His heart pounded in his chest as the world finally solidified around him. As he glanced around his heart hit the floor. For the first time, he was certain that he was awake and this was real. Nausea built up and he choked and gagged on bile trying to force its way out of his throat.

He was in the middle of the room, unmoving, tied tightly to a fancy wooden chair. He would have been impressed by the room if with it’s hunting trophies, large paintings, thick carpets, and the massive antique wooden desk. The shelves lined with silver dishes and very expensive looking vases barely held his focus as his eyes settled on a large row of windows overlooking the skyline of a city he barely recognized: Oslo.

The sound of a man clearing his throat caught his attention and he looked up at a man in his late 50’s or so wearing an expensive suit decorated only with a small lapel pin of the Norwegian flag. The man was almost identical to him except his hair lacked the two cowlicks that Tord’s hair had.

“Pay attention. or should I hit you again? It’s like all that work I put into training you went completely out the damn window.” The man in the suit looked down at Tord, disgusted. “I suppose you have all manner of diseases from running around with those miscreants and sticking your dick into cheap whores as much as you did.”

Tord scowled right back, making one small attempt to try and speak through the gag but giving up before just glaring instead.

“Enjoy your trip? I told your old friends to all enjoy it while they could, because after this you are not being touched for a LONG time.” he laughed, “yes, your old squad mate Lerkson was particularly happy to get his hands back onto you. I always could rely on that one to put you back into your place when you got too…well… hopeful. My only regret is that we never found your little “mentors” but goodness knows they'll show up eventually and try some pathetic attempt at a rescue.” he leaned against the desk and lit himself a cigarette, “welcome home, my dear little bastard.”

The word ignited hot rage within Tord. He had one thought, kill him. KILL HIM NOW!!! But as much as he strained and pulled against the ropes holding him to the chair, he couldn’t budge. He twisted and snarled and yanked for about five minutes before there was another slap to his face, this time he felt the large rings his father loved to wear scraping across his skin, tearing the flesh open.

“Behave. And listen. You have pissed me off for the final time and I’m NOT going to tolerate anything from you. No whining, no complaints, no words. You will live in that gag if that's what it takes.” The man moved in closer, grinning viciously as he was inches away from the snarling face of his son, “I couldn’t just let the one success story from my labs on base get away now could I? I think you know what I’m talking about.”

The words sent him back years, reporting to Medical to be strapped down and injected with numerous fluids and given pills, fits of rage he’d wake up from locked in a cage unsure how he’d gotten there, and being poked, prodded, and examined every afternoon before being released to the squad at night. The first time he’d killed one of them with his bare hands and laughing… laughing as the blood stained his skin red. His gray eyes flicked up to lock on to his father’s. The same shade of gray staring back at him with annoyance and disgust as they always had. He shook his head “No”.

His father laughed. “Oh silly child. You don’t have a choice! You’re only purpose and the only good thing you ever did was make my experiment a success. You, a waste of genetic material and air, finally serving a purpose as my own super soldier.” he smiled cruelly, “didn’t you ever wonder why you healed so fast? Wonder why your pain tolerance is stupidly high? Why you get angry so fast?” he reached forward and held Tord’s chin in his hand, “if only you could have had the physical benefits to be bigger and better than everyone else. But a runt will always be a runt.”

Tord’s eyes widened larger now. Fear filling his heart as the man touched his face, for the first time, gently, like he was holding some prized specimen. No… the experiment had failed! It had been 2 years of torturous hell and then they’d stopped! There was no way it had worked! He tried to pull back from the touch.

The grip tightened, “Yes. The only reason you're not as big and strong as the others, or so I’m told, is because of malnutrition. Pathetic. Maybe you caught up a little bit while you were away, but don’t worry. My super soldier will be the best.” He turned Tord’s face to the left and to the right, appraising it critically. “A least you're not an ugly little shit.”

The doors behind Tord opened and he heard footsteps enter the space, “Excuse me, Prime Minister Hagen, the secretary of defense is here for your meeting. Are you able to see him now?”

“One moment.” The Prime Minister glanced up and waved for the man to leave, then refocused on Tord as the door closed. He walked around the chair and untied Tord’s wrists and ankles, pulled him up to standing, then retied his wrists together tightly. He paused a moment taking in the height his son had gained while away, then kicked his legs out so Tord fell to his knees.

“You will be my monster.” His father’s voice whispered in his ear.

Tord winced as he hit the ground. The only thing keeping him from falling forward was his father’s hand grabbing a fistful of his hair. He blinked rapidly and tried to steady his breathing. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be real. When was he going to wake up? When was he going to be in his room again? But the pain aching in every part of his body kept him anchored to the room. He wasn’t leaving.

“You can come in, take him down the back stairs to the basement, put him in a cell securely. I’ll meet with the doctors tomorrow.” The Prime Minister spoke into his intercom then looked down at Tord on the floor.

Almost immediately there was a grinding sound as a door slid open in the back of the room, practically hidden by a curtain, and a pair of uniformed soldiers walked in and went straight over to grab Tord, dragging him back towards the corner. He started yelling at his father through the gag and trying to twist himself free of their grip.

Hagen grinned at the sight, all too happy to see his possession back where it belonged: under his control. “Good to have you back home, my dear Tord.” Then turned back to his desk to have a seat as the Secretary of Defense walked in and the muffled screaming of the bastard faded away as he was pulled back to his cage.


	2. The Good Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tord's last few days have been a blur, but getting reunited with some familiar faces starts to make him feel like hes back at home again and also what is going to be happening to him.
> 
> Recommended Listening: "This Is Where You Can Reach Me Now" by U2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're about to meet a lot of OC's... I'm so sorry...

The ceiling was solid concrete. Three of the walls were solid concrete and one was bullet proof glass. He didn’t know where the door was. From his vantage point it looked like he was trapped in a perfectly sealed box. The air was cold and still mixed and with the faint scent of rubbing alcohol. From what he could feel, the table he was strapped to was hard plastic. He had no idea what held him in place because he’d forgotten what it was like to feel things with his hands. His father’s promise that he wouldn’t speak had held true. The gag wasn’t an old sock anymore but some sort of thing holding his mouth shut.

Tord blinked slowly at the gray concrete ceiling. The surface was perfectly smooth, which he found hard to believe. It was amazing how a room like this showed no signs of existing in time. He ached to be able to turn his head to the side and see what was visible through the glass wall and to see anything aside from the same spot on a perfectly smooth and spotless slab on concrete. Then again, he would have done anything to just hear himself breathe, but the steady cadence of “ _You are my soldier, you are my weapon, you are my soldier, you are my weapon”_ In his father’s voice drowned out everything. He’d tried not to listen, he really had, but he’d given up on ever hearing anything else. The words were starting to become part of him.

Of course it was nothing new. They were words he’d been hearing his whole life in different ways. He wasn’t real. He was a lot of things: a bitch, a brat, a toy, a dog, a soldier, a weapon, an experiment, a punching bag, a waste, a mistake. But one thing he always knew for certain was that he was never a person. The words just flowed around him now, carried him, supported him in his little room. He was a soldier and he was a weapon. He could rely on that to always be true. In the end, even if he lost everything else...he always was and always would be a soldier.

He blinked again. When his eyes opened, for the first time in three days he saw a face. Was he awake? He’d seen lots of things in his dreams… maybe… this was one? Suddenly there was another face, one that looked just like his or what he thought his face looked like. Their mouths were moving and they were talking to each other. They kept looking from each other and back down to him. 

The face he didn’t recognize reached down and held a bright light up to his eyes and checked something. The sudden pressure of a hand on his eyes made his entire body go rigid, the lethargy that had surrounded him before was torn away. He tried to pull back from the touch. He couldn’t move. Panic started rising in his chest, then up his throat and got stuck in the gag. His hands strained to try and move. He had to hit away whoever thought they could lay a hand on him!

Suddenly, the world he’d existed in was torn away, leaving him with the cavernous screaming and hissing in the room. Voices clanged off of the walls and reverberating through him. It Was too loud! Everything was too loud!! Then he heard himself let out a small whimper. It was all he could manage through the gag and with his tired vocal chords. Had he been screaming? It seemed like the man who looked like him found it amusing.

The other face rolled its eyes and reached forward again, this time it took a few moments to remove the gag. Suddenly Tord could hear himself breathe again and his jaw opened slightly for the first time since he could remember. It ached… it hurt… the joint was so sore it burned.

The man who looked like him leaned down and pushed some of the sandy brown hair back. He very quietly whispered, “Who’s my brave little soldier?”

“I’m…. soldier….” He could barely speak the words but every part of him knew he had to answer. He knew that much. “I’m…. your soldier….”

.:.

Tord finished buttoning up the camouflage jacket and glanced in the mirror to make sure everything was neat. He paused, seeing his own reflection made him uncomfortable. So similar to his father yet somehow so different. The scars on his face, the dull gray eyes, the two spikes in his hair… the freckles even, they were all different.

The guard in the corner cleared his throat. A signal to keep things moving. Tord looked away and finished adjusting the uniform to military standard, a standard he knew well. It was almost comfortable to be back. His face remained expressionless as he turned back to the guard, his face looked… familiar…

“Erikson… you look the same.” his eyes followed the guard as he approached and secured Tord’s hands behind his back with a set of leather handcuffs.

“And you look like you should be knocked down a few pegs, brat.” He pushed him roughly from behind to start him walking towards the door.

Tord stumbled forward. He didn’t reply and he didn’t fight back. soldiers don’t fight with their superiors or their own comrades.

They walked quickly through the halls. It really was incredible how much space there was, and no one would have ever guessed it was beneath the prime minister's mansion either. The past few hours had been spent getting Tord cleaned up and fed, reacclimated to the senses he’d had taken away the past few days. To him, it felt like getting hit with a power hose for three hours straight just so he could feel again. He’d seen a few doctors in lab coats around and a lot of his old squad-mates. None of them looked happy to see him and they seemed even less happy to not be able to get close to him either.

They came to an abrupt halt in front of an elevator and as soon as Erikson scanned his thumb the doors popped open and he pushed Tord inside, stepping in after. They traveled upwards in silence. And when the doors opened again Tord was pushed out and into the arms of another guard, except he was in a black suit.

“Come on, bitch.” The man took his arm and pulled him down a long dark hallway.

“Mason?”

“Don’t speak. You weren’t ordered to.” The grip tightened.

“Why are you still--”

“I said. Don’t.” Mason yanked back on Tord, almost knocking him over, and shoved him into a wall. “Your sorry little ass better be thankful this entire building is watched by cameras. Because if it wasn’t?” his voice trailed off and his eyes looked distant, like he'd forgotten where his mind was going.

“You’d beat the shit out of me like always?” Tord finished the sentence for him.

Mason stared at him for a long moment, there were deep purple bags under his eyes that made him look far more exhausted than he acted. He said nothing and continued walking, Tord in tow. “Just be thankful.”

Tord nodded, he kept quiet. A good soldier follows the orders of his superior officers. Everyone was his superior.

They followed a twisted maze of hallways through the mansion, passing staff and servants and military officials here and there, no one looked twice at them. Their path ended at a set of double doors where another set of guards were posted. Halvorsen and Berg. Tord’s mind filled in the names quickly even though he hadn’t seen them in years. But he kept his mouth shut. No one told him to speak.

“He’s been waiting for you, Mason. What took you so long? Stop for a quickie with the dog?” Berg sent Mason a disgusted look before his glare sank a little lower to fall on Tord.

“Shut up. Eriskon took forever to get it up to the ground level.”

Halvorsen snorted then nodded at the doors, “get it inside before you're even more late.”

Mason pushed the doors open and pulled Tord inside.

The room was the same office that Tord had first woken up in. The furnishing was no less intimidating than it was then, but this time the Prime Minister was behind his desk and reading through a stack of what looked like a very long policy packet. As they entered, Mason stayed by the door with Tord.

“Come in. Put him in the chair then leave.” The prime Minister glanced up from the papers quickly before putting the stack down and taking a sip from a mug with the Norwegian flag on it.

Tord was pulled forward again, moving into the large room. The last thing he wanted was to be left alone with his father. The seconds ticked by and Tord tried to push back the build terror that threatened to crawl out of his throat. Mason pushed him into the chair and unclipped the handcuffs so that the leather shackles stayed on his wrists but not connected to each other. Instead, they were attached to the arms of the chair. When this process was finished, Mason stepped back, gave Tord one last sideways glance, then took his leave.

Prime Minister Hagen waited until the door was shut before saying anything, “I hope you understand why these lengths are still required.” he nodded at the restraints.

“Safety.” Tord replied quickly. “I’m unpredictable, irrational, and was a bad soldier before. I didn’t follow orders and people got hurt.”

There was a slow grin that crossed the prime minister's face, “Yes. Good.” he leaned back and lit a cigar for himself, taking another look at the uniformed and clean Tord in front of him. He should have thought of this sort of thing years ago. “You turned 18 last night.” he took a puff of his cigarette, “Happy birthday.”

Tord frowned, his birthday had always been a horrid day involving a trip to this mansion in a dress uniform for a meal with his father to be harassed and yelled at then have his mother, not his real mother, make remarks about him. Then go back to the base and be torn to pieces by a group of sadistically vicious men who got hard just by inflicting pain on him. The frown deepened as he tried to remember his birthday last year… it had been small… just Paul and Patryk…?

“You look like you're thinking about something.” the prime minister took another sip of coffee.

“I.... I dont think there’s anything to be happy about... Sir.” His gray eyes met his father’s and they stared at each other for a few seconds in silence. A cloud of smoke billowed across the table, making Tord cough.

“Perhaps not. Your birth was never anything to celebrate. Either way, your required enlistment starts today, though I feel you should already be familiar with most military protocol by now.”

“Hard to forget, sir.”

“Your uniform still fits. You will be in the same squad and rank as before. But official now, Private Hagen. That rank is yours and will never change.”

“Of course, sir. You don’t promote a dog to lead when it’s made just to attack.”

This brought another smile to the Prime minister's lips, “Good. I’m glad we can be on the same page without your previous rebellion.”

“I’m your soldier, sir, and your weapon.” Tord repeated the words out loud, saying them made him feel good, he knew what was expected and what was his place. It was safe.

“Yes, yes you are. And you will answer to everyone without question. Think of them as extensions of me.”

“Of course, sir.” he nodded then paused, “About the others… they seem… agitated.”

There was a long pause and silence before Hagen spoke again, “They are angry. They feel that they should have some say over what they’re allowed to do to you because of how things were before. They were the ones who lost you, so their privileges have been revoked for now. They are not allowed to touch you unless it’s an order.”

“Oh…” Tord shifted, uncomfortable, “Am I to assume that punishment for my misbehavior would be from them again? Or not…?”

“Are you planning on misbehaving.” The prime minister's face darkened immediately.

“No! I would never!”

“Then don’t worry about it.” he snarled the words out. “You are an obedient soldier now. You have no reason to go against orders. You have no thoughts to go against orders.” Tord nodded quickly. “Now, about your posting. You will remain here for your required service. More specifically downstairs. The doctors need to continue their work. By the end of your time I expect my super soldier to be complete.”

“Of course.” Tord glanced out the window for a moment, wondering if he would ever see the sun again. It was orders… But he still felt a small tug in his mind that the experiment wasn’t the only reason. “An experiment can’t be out free.”

“No, it cannot, it needs to be monitored always.” His father didn’t expound on that, “I will come down from time to time to see your progress. But it will not be often, so when I say that everyone here is an extension of me and you follow orders unquestioningly, I mean it. If I hear so much of a hint that you were being a BAD soldier I will put you through more hell than you can even imagine.”

“That's quite a bit of hell, sir.” As soon as Tord said it he flinched back. Bad. bad. 

The Prime minister's face fell to an unamused scowl, “Indeed. Let's not push that envelope.” He stood up and walked around the desk to stand in front of Tord directly, taking something out of his pocket. “Your dog tags. Since you were still wearing them even when we dragged your sorry little ass back here.” He slid them over Tord’s head as the door opened and a doctor walked in with a tray of items, “ah and here's the rest of your birthday present.”

The doctor approached and stood next to Tord, the contents of the tray now visible in his hands. On it, Tord could see a jet injector and a small vial. “It’s all ready, prime minister sir, when you are.” the doctor looked annoyed at Tord, “it won’t be able to remove this one, that’s a guarantee.”

“Won’t be able to remove what?” Tord looked at the doctor and frowned.

Before he could answer, the prime minister moved, taking the jet injector himself and inserting the vial, “Reliable as always doctor. Always using the constant development of technology for good use, and of course, tested here first.” he held the tip of the gun against Tord’s neck and pulled the trigger.

Tord flinched but kept his mouth shut. He’d always hated those. The pressure of the metal tip on his neck transporting him back to the first day reporting to medical about 12, he'd arrived and promptly been strapped down for the first day of 730 being a human experiment. They'd gagged him then because he couldn’t keep quiet. Within a month he'd learned to keep his mouth shut regardless of what they were doing from injections to blood tests to tissue samples.

“You see, private Hagen,” his father placed the jet injector back onto the tray and waved the scientist out, “I don’t make the same mistake twice. Regardless of how much you try to be good and behave I need to have certainty. That injection held a micro transmitter, much smaller than the one you pulled out of your forearm two years ago.” he pushed Tord’s sleeve back and showed him the scar, “this new one lives in your bloodstream and will stay there, circulating through your body until you die.” he grinned, “There is no way to remove it or block it. If you leave the perimeter I have set up, the entire complex to go on high alert and you get to meet your old squad mates who will be bringing the dogs to find you.” At the mention of the dogs, Tord went pale. “Yes, I do recall how you love them. They missed you.”

“A soldier doesn’t run away from his fight, sir.” But he spoke quietly, he could feel the tearing of canine teeth in his flesh and the smell of the dog kennel.

“No. no they do not.”

The door opened behind Tord again and this time Mason stepped back inside, approaching the desk as he had before. This time he paused, almost froze. His eyes fixated on the few drops of blood rolling down Tord’s neck and onto the collar of his uniform.

“Mason. Bring it downstairs.” The prime minister went back to his desk and sat down.

There was a pause before Mason forced himself to blink and continue forward, undoing the restraints to the chair and then redoing them behind Tord's back. He pulled him out of the room quickly, much faster than when they had entered, and far more rough.

When they were out in the hallway, Tord frowned, “Mason I haven’t done anything--”

“It’s captain.” Mason hissed and squeezed Tord’s arm tighter as they kept walking faster until they rounded a corner and he stopped. By this time Mason was visibly twitching and it looked like he was holding back the urge to scream.

“Fine, captain. Don't you think you’re….” his voice trailed off as he looked closer at masons dilated pupils. “Maso-... Captain… You’re not ok…”

Mason breathed in deeply and exhaled. “It smells… Just how I remember…” he leaned in closer and closer, hovering over Tord. “Smells… Strong…”

“What smells… Oh no…” Tord paled and pressed himself against the wall, wishing his back would sink into the wood paneling. “Captain... Mason… whatever you're thinking… please don’t--”

“CAPTAIN.”

A voice echoed from behind Mason but Tord recognized it immediately. At least some sanity was still here.

“Vlad, I’m not your captain anymore. This is squad business. Don’t get involved.” Mason’s hand dropped from the wall and wiped the blood off Tord’s neck. “Thought you were too good for this business anyways?” He glanced over his shoulder, “You left us.”

Tord stayed perfectly still. One thing he'd learned early on with the blood lust was that you don’t move. Running was practically useless when everyone was twice your size. You hoped they weren’t carrying anything sharp, which they usually were, but one could hope. “Vlad?” he glanced around Mason to see the tall broad-shouldered figure.

“I’m not here on military business, no. I’m….” he sighed deeply, “Assisting in the labs. More like private security since… since the squad has been assigned elsewhere. I will be escorting the soldier back. You're supposed to be on break now aren’t you?” He put a hand on mason’s shoulder and gently pulled him back “You’re better than this.”

Mason cast one last look at Tord’s neck and nodded, “Yeah... Yeah. Take it.” Then he yanked Tord off the wall and practically shoved him into Vlad’s arms. “See you around again, then.” He pushed past Vlad and went back up the hall.

Vlad sighed and let go of Tord, “You really fucked shit up for us when you escaped. I hope you know that.” he nodded for them to continue.

“It didn’t used to take that little….” Tord frowned, trying to remember.

“I told you, you fucked shit up. We all went through hell for letting you escape. The punishment was close to torture if not crossing that line in a few cases. It also meant that we all needed reconditioning to be better. In most of them it manifested as highly possessive. We had to switch barracks because all of them could smell you from your belongings you left behind. It was...a bit of a disaster.”

“Except you.” Tord glanced sideways at Vlad. There had always been a tenuous alliance there, even before he’d run away from the base. But it was closer to an agreement of mutual ignoring: Vlad wanted no part in the squad activities and Tord had needed a little protection now and then. “The Prime Minister says there's unrest.”

“Yes, you could say it that way.” Vlad hit the button for the elevator and waited for it to arrive, “He banned them from going near you because they all want to tear you apart. The reconditioning strengthened things alright. In their eyes you belong to the squad and the squad alone and the fear of what your father will do to them is the only reason they haven’t tried anything yet.” he sighed as the elevator doors opened and they stepped on, “That corner is a blind spot in the cameras. Mason knew that.”

“So you’re here to babysit for two years until I’m the super soldier he wants. Then what?”

“I still work for your father. Private security is the nice way of saying I look after VIP’s instead of being a grunt like the rest of them. He likes to keep a closer eye on me.” The doors opened back into the hallway of the basement labs and he led Tord out, no pulling or pushing. “He stuck me with you because I won’t try anything.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes, the maze of hallways still as mystifying as it had been on the way out. They passed a number of rooms and spaces, some labs had things like rat cages and larger rodents, others had computers and workstations, everywhere were members of Cera Squad that Tord had grown up with from the first group he’d been with at eight to the last that he’d escaped from.

“I’m supposed to listen to all orders I receive. If one of them tells me to do something--”

“Don’t.” Vlad cut him off, pausing in front of a metal door with a keypad on it, “Come on, kid, you’ve never been one to do that. I doubt a year and a half of freedom would cut the balls off of you.” he frowned, now that Tord had said something so unlike himself, he noticed a few other things: the neatness, the absence of fidgeting, the dullness of his eyes, the expressionless face. Something didn’t add up. “What did he do to you?”

Tord blinked, “I’m a good soldier now.” he shrugged, “I remember my past self and actions. I was stupid. I would have been hurt less if I hadn’t done so much to force the squad to discipline me.”

“You were a damn good soldier then. Though I assume your shooting might need some brushing up.” Vlad didn’t push it. If Lars Hagen could recondition and torture their entire squad, then he could do the same to his bastard, and if he tried to get involved his own safety would be put at risk.

“I’m not a kid.”

“What?” Vlad shook his head to come back from his thoughts and enter the code into the keypad.

“You keep called me ‘kid’, I’m not. I’m 18 now.” he looked at Vlad, his grey eyes were still large, even if they looked dull. He’d grown about two inches taller than he had been at 16 and a half and maybe he was just starting to actually gain muscle for the first time. “I don’t need your protection anymore. If I follow orders, there's no reason for me to be afraid of discipline or punishment.”

Vlad almost looked sad for a moment as the door swung open and the light flicked on. “Sure… Tord.” then he nodded for him to enter.

As he stepped inside it was almost shocking how small the space was. Tord looked around as Vlad unclipped the restraints from behind his back and onto a length of chain, he could move around freely in the space but it kept him at least a foot away from the door. The room had a mattress with no pillow or blankets, a toilet, a table and a chair, and a camera in one corner.

“Finally get my own room, heh.” Tord managed a small smile, “better than the barracks already.” He turned around to glance at Vlad, “I guess this is how things are now…”

Vlad nodded, “Yep…” he looked at Tord again, regardless of the changes he was still a kid and still too young for this. “Get rest. I’m the only one with the code to the door, I’ll come get you when the doctors are ready…. Whenever that may be.” He stepped out and closed the door quickly, he couldn’t bear to see Tord in the space anymore. The door clicked and sealed behind him and he went off to go find Mason.

Tord sat on the mattress. The walls all stared back at him, blank and empty. There was silence in this room, no more words being whispered over and over again. He lay back on the mattress, he hadn't had real sleep in almost a week. He drifted off and for the first time he thought of his friends. Did they miss him? Did they know he was gone? Had Tom told anyone about the mysterious visitor at the door? Had Paul and Patryk tried to reach him and look for him?

He tried to think about their faces, but even now the images were fading from his mind. They were bad soldiers. They disobeyed orders. They’d committed treason against Norway. Something inside of him tried to remember they were important to him and for some reason that was more important than them being good soldiers. He thought about his fights with Tom and hanging out with Edd and his adventures with Matt. They were all bad soldiers… they never listened to anybody… but they were important. And maybe… maybe they had thought he was a good soldier, and maybe that meant he mattered to them too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've made it this far, thank you for reading! A few things I'd like to point out: if you have no idea what I'm referencing when some of the OC's are talking about, that's totally fine. it's meant to be vague a bit because I want his backstory before he met Edd to sort of unfold throughout. hopefully it works, but if not, I'm also trying to write that down too lol. either way, it's a lot of OC's and personal headcannon stuff.


	3. Bites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tord is taken for his first day of testing, he has no plan to stay captured.
> 
> Recommended Listening: "Arsonist's Lullabye" by Hozier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there are some warnings! there is blood in this chapter as well as the deaths of some dogs. if that sort of thing doesn't sit well with you i would suggest not reading it, its a few paragraphs and you can skip it without missing much!

The next few days passed slowly. Once again time didn’t exist. The space in his new room was as sterile as the last but at least he could move around at will to a degree. So he paced and paced and paced and paced. The whole time he was overcome with thoughts of when it was going to begin. The promise of continued testing and experimenting made his hands shake constantly. Even if he knew that these were his orders, he couldn’t shake the terror of being pricked with needles and strapped down for tests.

Food came when he slept in the form of nutrition bars and Styrofoam cups of water. He wasn’t hungry most of the time, so the little food didn’t bother him much. He was seated on the edge of the mattress eating his bar of the day when he heard the sound of the code being punched in and the seal on the door breaking as it swung open and revealed Vlad in his suit.

“Good morning, Tord.” He nodded in greeting.

“Is it morning?” Tord paused from eating his apparent breakfast. “Its time isn’t it.”

“Yes.” Vlad sighed and stepped into the room, “Stand up, stay quiet.” he paused and glanced back at the hallway before approaching to take the bar out of Tord’s hand. He moved the cup of water to the table, “Everyone is uneasy today, it would be best if you just didn’t say anything to anyone.”

Tord watched the food leave his hands then stood up, “Whatever you order, sir.”

“Don’t.” Vlad scowled, uncomfortable at the title, “I’m not your superior.”

“Everyone is my superior. You don’t promote a dog.” He didn’t look at Vlad as the words spilled out of his mouth. Then he waited for Vlad to undo the chain from his wrists.

“That’s not even remotely true.” Vlad muttered under his breath as he undid the clips that held the leather cuffs to the chain in the room and then to reattach them to each other behind Tord’s back. “Come on then.”

Tord followed him out, the moment he stepped into the hallway he could sense the electric atmosphere. He looked down the hall and saw the soldiers in full gear standing guard and watching them closely.

“A little bit excessive don’t you think?” He kept pace with Vlad. “Should I be flattered?”

Vlad snorted at the small piece of Tord’s old personality showing, “They don’t know what to expect. They don’t tell me anything, but rumors are they’re bringing out the other half today.”

“Other half?”

“The killer.”

The killer… Tord had often wondered what had happened in the moments he didn’t remember. The days that were lost when he woke up, exhausted, sweating, bleeding, and caged. The days weren’t that often and had stopped when the testing had stopped.

“That’s the one they want, what if I never come back again?” He kept his eyes forward as he asked. His stomach hit the floor as they walked through the halls. Orders were orders, but he was afraid that he’d never think with his same mind again and lose everything he’d had.

“Tord.” Vlad stopped walking and looked down at him, “I told you to stay quiet.” he paused and slumped a little, “You're being a bad soldier by talking.”

The words immediately made him shut his mouth and he nodded. The thoughts lingered but he tried to quiet them with the most comforting thing he could think of: “ _You are a soldier, you are a weapon, this is what you were made to be,”_ over and over again in his head.

Vlad’s gut twisted playing that card, but he told himself it was for the better. He kept leading on through the hallways until they stopped in front of a room. It looked like the room where Tord had first woken up but the table he'd been strapped to was gone. Instead it was empty. Vlad placed a hand on Tord’s shoulder as a doctor approached.

“Ah, good. We are all very anxious to get this started. Mr. Johannsen, please bring the subject into the space and remove the restraints.” The doctor had a haughty sneer plastered across his face and his words were difficult to understand from the thick German accent. He nodded at a door. It was a solid metal panel with a keypad next to it. The doctor quickly entered the code and the door slid open. “Quickly now.”

There was a pause then Vlad nodded and pushed Tord inside. He undid the restraints and even removed the leather cuffs from his wrists. Then he stepped back for the doctor. “He’s ready doctor.”

“Yes…” He approached, a syringe in his hand, “Mr. Johannsen, there is a delay before the compound is dissolved and takes effect. It is two minutes for us to leave the room, seal it, and proceed to the observation space. Do you understand?”

“Clearly.”

“Good, you may bring in the dogs then.”

“The what?” Vlad paused confused.

“You may not be a soldier anymore, Mr. Johannsen, but you still remember how to do as you're told, yes?” The doctor sent him a dirty look.

Vlad bristled at the accusation, “Of course, doctor.” He turned and stepped into the hall to see two of the military dogs on leashes held by Erikson and another man that made Vlad scowl darkly.

“Well, if it isn’t the fairy. Back to playing soldier or just playing with your favorite toy again?” He smirked as Vlad approached.

“Lerkson… I think we both know you ‘played’ enough for the entire squad combined.” he looked at him with a cold glare, “Do your job and put the dogs in the room, try not to get too excited.” He motioned towards the door, “Remember your orders, soldier.”

“Tch.” Lerkson pushed past him, shoving Vlad hard as he walked the dog he was holding into the room followed by Erikson who did the same.

Tord turned to look over and his body froze. No… Not them… He looked up at the doctor, unable to hide his fear at the sight of the two massive German shepherds. He couldn’t speak. Orders said not to speak. He had orders! Be a good soldier… Be a good soldier!! He bit the inside of his mouth instead.

“Ah, I see you remember them.” the doctor smiled calmly as he watched Tord’s eyes widen in horror, “They remember you, too. Your scent has not changed in the time when you were gone.” He looked over at the soldiers, “Remove the leashes and hold them until I tell you to release.” He refocused back to the small soldier standing at a nervous attention, “Now, private… it is your turn.”

The doctor approached and pulled back the shirt collar on his uniform and injected the needle quickly. “Like I said, two minutes. Clear the room!” As soon as the syringe was empty, he turned on one heel and waved for the others to follow him out, the doors slamming shut behind them leaving Tord alone in the room with the glass wall with the two snarling dogs.

Tord immediately backed away from them, slowly, watching them carefully until his back hit the wall. The dogs on the other hand took one sniff and started barking loudly, snarling, and approaching slowly.

“Release! Back off!!!” he could feel the concrete against his back, the smell of stale air that he'd gotten so used to filling his lungs as he was forced to take large gulping breaths. “BACK OFF!!!!”

Tord felt his pulse pounding as time slowed. The first dog leapt straight at him; mouth open revealing its pointed teeth. He managed to get one arm up before the first dog jumped up, clamping onto his forearm easily and tearing through the sleeve of his uniform. The taste and smell of blood spurring it on as the second one clamped down on his ankle. The two dogs threatened to tear in opposite directions as Tord slid to the ground screaming and trying to keep his face covered.

In the observation area Vlad had to look away. His hands twitched at the sounds of the screaming in pain and snarls of the dogs who had been raised with one purpose: to ensure that one child never escaped. “Is this absolutely necessary, doctor?”

“Give it time, the compound should still be dissolving now, but not for much longer.” there was a pause as the doctor watched on intently, staring through the glass wall as blood splattered the wall and the floor. “Any second now…”

It was at that moment that the yelling came to an abrupt stop. The absence of the human cries made Vlad look back up again in time to see one of the dogs go slamming into the opposite wall with a sickening yelp. The scene inside the room had shifted.

Amid the snarls and the barking, something had switched on in Tord’s mind. He viciously kicked the dog that was still in front of him, watching it back away slowly. He picked himself up off the floor, the blood dripping off him covering the floor in red splotches. He stood slightly taller and all the fear had left his face. Now, alone in the room as the dogs circled back around, he had one goal: kill them.

“You think you still scare me? Mangey curs. Flea bitten BITCHES!!!” Then he charged. He ran full force at the dog he’d kicked into the wall, punching it in the face and following with a hard kick in the side. “WHERE’S YOUR BITE NOW. WHERE!?!?!?” he launched himself at it again and they locked together, scratching and biting. The second dog tried to join in but kept getting swatted away. The movement in the room was so fast it formed one solid blur. Until it suddenly stopped. There was one final yelp then Tord stood slowly over the motionless corpses of the dogs on the ground.

“Did you get all you wanted, doctor?” Tord turned towards the glass. “Are you happy to see me again?” He stalked toward the glass, new confidence in his stride, his eyes shining bright red under the fluorescent lights. When he reached the glass he slammed a bloody fist against it and grinned, revealing sharp canines. “Any more puppies for me to play with or do I move on to a real challenge now?”

The doctor watched through the glass, intrigued, “Ah… I don’t suppose you ever met the experiment during your time in service did you Mr. Johannsen?” He ignored the words spoken to him through the glass.

Tord was starting to pace back and forth, clearly ignoring any injuries that he’d received from the dogs and leaving trails of blood across the glass with his fingers, relishing in the color. “Doctor, you let me out just for that? I want to PLAY.” he yelled and slammed the glass with his fist again. “LISTEN TO ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU!!!!!” He screamed it at the glass.

The doctor was barely phased, “This was the initial test to make sure that the experiment was still here. The Prime Minister will be pleased. Of course, there's no telling how long it’ll be like this. Could be days.” He shrugged, “but I got what I needed. Do your job and stay with it until it returns to normal.” Then he turned and walked away making notes on a clipboard.

Vlad reached out to stop him, but he wasn’t fast enough, “Ah shit.” he sighed and looked through the glass at the blood smeared mess of a scowling teenager. He frowned, the eyes had completely changed. The irises were a bright blood red. They bored straight through him, glaring, hateful, angry, and determined. “I don’t blame you for being angry…” he sighed and went over to the glass.

“Are you volunteering?” Tord looked up at him, “I remember you. The one they all relied on to keep me in check because the rest were too damn scared.” He kept staring straight into Vlad’s eyes, “The doctor doesn’t know. He's a moron, but you've met me before.”

“Have I?” Vlad frowned.

“My birthday, the bad days, the dark days…” he looked down at his bloody hands, “The only reason I’m alive is because of this you know.” he seemed less ready to kill now that the doctor had left. “You all thought I was just some freak accident. Some undeserving bastard with a weird knack for surviving the vicious bullshit.” His face twisted into a cruel cold smile, “My father is a fool. He created something he can’t control no matter how hard he tries. This room won’t hold me forever.”

“I’m not letting you out like this. You have orders to--”

“Orders? HA!” he punched the glass, his hand twisting on a weird angle as it bounced back, “You think I care? He can brainwash me all he wants, but he will NEVER touch this part of me. I am survival, I am endurance, and I am hope. I am his downfall and the crumbling of his empire and Vlad, I will break everyone who has ever hurt me.” Blood dripped down his face and he licked it off his lips.

For a moment Vlad had the uneasy feeling that the glass wouldn’t hold. He took a step back, the waves of determination rolling off Tord were overwhelming to be around. “Is that the normal you then… the one I knew before?”

“If you can sneak me a cigarette, I’ll give you an answer.” he snorted and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Holy shit…” The doctors needed to see this. They needed to know! But Vlad stayed put.

“Yes, I’m back. Whatever my father did to me… at least Red is still here to bail me out.” he managed a small smile that looked almost like his normal self.

“Red?”

“This…” he gestured to himself, “They call it an experiment. Good old dad calls it a super soldier. I call him Red. I was scared of him when I was younger. But it's hard to be afraid of the thing that keeps you alive. When you find an anchor to hold onto while the whole world tore away at me, beat me, tortured me? He’s the only friend I’ve ever had. Of course… He goes away… then I’ll be back to brainwashed submissive little bitch.”

“Hold on.” Vlad frowned and tried to wrap his mind around the new information, “You knew? But they said you didn’t… that it didn’t work…?”

“I thought I was just getting stronger.” Tord shrugged, “The rage… the violence...that’s what they wanted. The experiment failed because they couldn’t make it permanent. The aftereffects stuck around. Or so I put together.”

“How.”

“What do you mean ‘how’? It’s simple: Since when have you met a 16-year-old who can put a grown man on his knees? Who can heal from multiple stab wounds in a few days? Who can survive what you all put me through?” The last words came out bitter and harsh. The anger from before creeping back into his eyes, “The HELL of living surrounded by all of you!! Of waking up surrounded by you. Of being beaten! Wounded! Broken! Crushed!” He slammed his fist into the glass again and again. “You think I got through that with luck? Maybe some sympathy from Paul and Patryk? That's not how life works and that's certainly not what got me through 8 years in that HELL HOLE!”

Tord started pacing back and forth, clearly getting agitated again. “But you know what? I learned not to question it. Because for some reason I had an edge.” He stopped in his tracks and looked at Vlad again, “And now I'm back here. He will only let me off my leash in this room so he can watch me perform tricks for him like a trained monkey. And he locks away my body and fills it with LIES! No… not again.” He pointed at the glass and at Vlad. “I will break him if it’s the last thing I do.”

Vlad swallowed and stepped back, “That’s… holy shit...Tord I…” There was something horribly tragic about the whole scenario. He shook his head, refocus dammit. “Tord look… I know you don’t want to be here and maybe there's a way to work something out. But you aren’t going to achieve anything by trying to make trouble.” 

“I escaped once, and I can do it again.” he kicked the glass so hard it shook and vibrated. Vlad had to step back, nervous of it breaking. “And I will tear apart anyone who gets in my way.”

The air was thick with tension as Vlad stared through the glass, his hands shoved into his pockets to hide them shaking. What did he even say? “Yeah….” he paused and looked again, trying to see things differently. “You won’t remember this when it wears off?”

There was a pause before he looked away, he looked down at his hands, the bruising forming across his knuckles was apparent and the bite mark in his other arm. He glanced up at Vlad, his eyes flashing, “No, but there are always marks.” His face was locked into a tense scowl, “They can’t hide them from me and they don’t usually like to.” he swallowed and leaned forward against the glass, his expression faltering, the gray shifting back. Suddenly he looked up at Vlad in a panic.

“He’s going away… Vlad please. Don’t let him do this to me again… I will get out... You can try and be like the rest of them, but I know you’re not…” Tord’s entire body twitched, “Good soldier…” He shuddered and fell forward, “Not like them!” the panic was growing as he tried to stop the convulsions twisting his body, “Please! I’m not his soldier--!”

“Tord I can’t--” He was cut off when the small figure in the room collapsed sideways. There was a horrible thud as Tord and the two dead dogs lay on the floor, All of them bleeding, all of them still, and all of them red. Vlad couldn’t tear his eyes off the scene as he reached for his radio.

“Doctor, He’s passed out.”


	4. Three Shots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After weeks of experimenting, Red has grown stronger and stronger under the eyes of Vlad, who is more and more uneasy with the interactions he's been having with Tord.
> 
> Recommended Listening: "My Name is Dark- Algorithm Mix" by Grimes

Tord squinted into the fog looking for any sign of movement. He’d been sneaking through the muddy field for what felt like hours with nothing to navigate by but the light of the full moon. His breath created large clouds in front of him as he inched forward. The freezing water had long since soaked through his fatigues and his fingers had gone numb an hour into the exercise. A few feet to his right he heard a twig snap and he froze.

The tension that fell across the field made him hold his breath. The line of soldiers all held. Who had it been? Not that it mattered, they would all blame him anyways, that is, if they failed. There was a wave as the group was given the signal to proceed forward.

A few feet later Tord dropped into the dugout trench they’d been aiming for. There were 4 in their group: Mason, Vlad, Halvorsen, and himself all soaked and covered in mud.

“Who the fuck made a noise.” Mason glared at the three of them.

Halvorsen rolled his eyes, “Do you even need to ask.”

“Fuck off.” Tord shot back quickly. “We all know I’m the smallest one here and if anyone can move quietest it would be me. Maybe if you didn’t stomp around like the big-footed asshole you are--”

“Shut it. Both of you.” Mason held up his hand and they both stopped talking instantly. “Save it for when we get scored. We still have a long march left and we are NOT losing to the Gamma team.”

Vlad watched on silently, his mouth twisting in annoyance at the discord. He glanced back out over the field they had just traversed, seeing slight movements in the grass signaling the positions of the other teams. They were, at the very least, in the lead. “We’d best keep moving then.”

“Yeah. Come on, follow the trench and keep your head low. Halvorsen take the back, Bitch take the front.” He readjusted the grip on his rifle. “Move.”

Tord moved around Halvorsen quickly, happy for the distance. “Tell the back end to keep shit silent.” He mumbled it as he pushed past. He was a head shorter than all of them and the soaked fabric of his fatigues clung loosely on his small frame. The mumbling earned his helmet a hard smack from Halvorsen.

“Hey. I said SILENT.” Mason scowled and motioned for Vlad to go in front of him as the group moved forward. He glanced from side to side as they made their way through the mud filled trenches that ran through the fields outside of the military base.

.:.

The scene played out in front of Tord’s eyes as clearly as if he’d been watching it on TV. He was seated on the floor next to the glass wall of the testing room with Vlad on the other side. His fingers twitched slightly as the rest of him remained perfectly still, the red irises glinting under the fluorescent lights.

“What are you thinking of?” Vlad was seated as well. He’d been watching the room for hours. In the weeks before, each time the doctors had set “The Killer”, as they so lovingly called him, free, the longer Red stayed in control. It had almost been a full day now.

“Field training.” Tord shifted and looked at the dead body across the room, the unfortunate soldier who hadn’t made it out of the room in time and now the first soldier to have been killed since Tord’s return. “It was the only damn thing that was fun.”

“Oh?” Vlad glanced sideways through the glass.

“Only time I was let outside the fence.” He switched his focus to his hands, covered in dried blood and the familiar purple bruising across his knuckles making him smile slightly, at least he could still feel. He stood up and walked over to the soldier and looked down at him: glazed over eyes, slack jaw, messy hair, and the limp hands. He frowned and kneeled down patting the pockets on the body.

“Hey, what are you--.... Tord, don’t…. Don’t be gross.” Vlad made a face.

Tord looked up and sent a look of pure annoyance through the glass, “Unless you’re going to open the door and take it out then this body is my kill and I have dibs on its shit.” He shoved his hand into one of the jacket pockets and he raised an eyebrow, “and since you’ve proven useless as someone to get me shit,” he pulled a pack of cigarettes out and a lighter, “Even more reason to take his.”

“You think it wouldn’t set off smoke detectors?” Vlad scowled.

“Yeah, I'll make sure to evacuate.” Tord shot back with a cigarette already between his teeth and the lighter flicking on.

There was a long minute of silence as he sucked in the smoke and felt the nicotine taking hold. He closed his eyes and smiled. It was an unnerving sight to see someone so young smiling calmly covered in blood standing over a dead body enjoying a long drag. But it was almost serene in a way. To Vlad, it was the most like himself that Tord had looked since being dragged back to this place.

“Forgive me for not offering, but I don’t think you deserve one.” Tord smirked and approached the glass again, leaning against the wall, exhaling smoke out his nose. “You really have no idea how much I needed this. I wonder… Do you think this super soldier bullshit will keep me from getting diseases? Wouldn’t THAT be something?” he grinned, “When I escape here, I’ll miss this, these moments? This quality time? Maybe I won’t kill you like the rest.”

Vlad frowned and looked directly into the red eyes that were mocking him through the glass, “You shouldn’t threaten the only person who shows you kindness.” The energy radiating through the glass from Tord was unnerving. No one should be that confident in his position, not now.

“I’m not worried. Guilt really is more powerful than anything I could ever do to you personally.” He stared right back. “Because I know you were only mad that I got away because you didn’t have a hand in it. Because your chance to wipe yourself clean of any of this group bullshittery ran away. Hell, I’d even wager you were happy at a second chance! You get to be the rescuer you didn’t have the guts to be before. Isn’t that nice for you?”

There was the awful feeling of his gut being twisted as the words hit the one part of his mind that he’d tried to ignore for the last year and a half. “Fuck off.”

“Oh, did that hurt?” for a moment he looked at Vlad seriously, “How about this: you blindly serve a regime that’s destroying your country. Every day you sit by and let him rule unchallenged is another day that OUR country falls deeper and deeper into a mind controlled cesspool of HIS making to be manipulated and destroyed as he scrapes money and wealth off the backs of the working class to line his own pockets.” He took another drag of the cigarette, “you think Mason had any other choice than to join the military? You think anyone else in the squad could have found any sort of life outside of transcription? Fuck no. And the best part is he wants it that way! The more he can influence the younger generation through his damn experiments the less resistance he’ll have!”

At that Vlad’s frown softened to concern, “It’s not that you’re wrong about that…. But--”

“But what? Is there even a question?!” There was a twitch from Tord’s eyebrow as he took the cigarette out of his mouth and lit another one, throwing the butt on the ground and extinguishing it with the toe of his boot. “That doubt is just more of his conditioning at work. You can’t even think straight!” he paused, “Remember… when Mason was actually a good leader? When he had his mind? Remember when he wasn’t shit?”

.:.

“Hold up.” Mason’s voice cut through the thick fog of the early morning. The group stopped, dropping to the ground, Tord keeping an eye between the trees of the forest that had opened ahead of them and Halvorsen watching the path they’d just come from. “We need to check our position. I’m not sure we’re going the right way.”

Mason pulled a map out of his bag and grabbed a compass, “this can’t be right... We crossed the stream 5 minutes ago.” He glanced around at the forest around them. “Hey, Bitch, can you see anything up there?”

There was a pause as Tord squinted into the fog. The moon had set and the sky was just starting to lighten leaving the woods in deep shadow around them. “No… an incline… trees look like they clear to the east. Nothing but trees to the west.”

“Well that’s great.”

“Maybe if we just take a moment here?” Vlad looked at Mason, sensing the growing frustration. “We’ll have more light in a few minutes and things will be clearer.”

“Hm.” Mason grunted, “yeah, take water. Keep an eye out, we aren’t losing points for one of you being a stupid shit.”

Tord sighed and reached for his canteen with one hand keeping the other firmly on the rifle. Then he frowned. “Fuck….”

“What is it?” Mason looked annoyed.

“My canteen is gone.” Tord cursed under his breath, he’d filled it and he’d put it in his bag.

“Here.” Mason held out his, “Your suffering isn’t more important than the team.” He looked pissed. He was sure Lerkson or Erikson would have a good laugh about them failing because of the bitch, he wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction. Vlad raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

There was a pause as Tord gave Mason a wary glance before taking that canteen and having a sip then handing it back. He’d pay for that later.

“Don’t make a scene, we still have a challenge to win.” He grabbed his canteen back and wiped the rim of it off a bit overdramatically. “If we were heading the right direction, we should have run into the patrol already and had our combat scenario. Something is off.”

The dawn light was starting to streak across the sky now, the forest suddenly coming alive in the illumination. In the distance a flock of birds took off, rustling the leaves in the treetops sending the hairs on the back of Tord’s neck up, he turned quickly and dropped, bringing his rifle up and looking through the scope into the woods.

The others followed suit and mason kept his eyes on the nearby surroundings. “Fuck… cover. NOW.”

The group moved into cover, sliding behind trees and keeping focused. There was still no movement to be seen around them. Mason scowled, “Don’t make me regret trusting your gut, bitch.”

Tord didn’t answer. He was busy scowling into the trees. Something had to have set the birds off… something had to be out there… suddenly he felt a hand push him from behind and a voice whisper hoarsely in his ear, “RUN”

Mason grabbed the back of Tord’s jacket and yanked him up as Halvorsen went tearing past, “They’re behind!! Move!! They know where we are!!” Suddenly the group was tearing through the trees at full speed.

“Clearing soon! Go around! Plan!” Mason managed to yell as they ran. He pointed ahead at a small patch of grass between the trees that came into view and waved for them to go around it. Then he managed to speed up and get out front, leading them at a steep curve and up a small hill covered in boulders. “Cover! Find!” He slid in behind one of the larger rocks, “Bitch down! Vlad high! Halvorsen, suppressing! Don't shoot until you have a clean shot.”

Vlad was the next to make it up the hill and to slide into place, quickly aiming into the forest back the way they came as Tord slid in and dropped to his stomach and took aim. Halvorsen followed not too long after and took his position as well. They all waited, trying to hold in their heavy breathing. From the hill they had at least a small vantage point and cover from the rocks, it wasn’t much but it was better than trees.

“I don’t see anything….” Halvorsen frowned, “where did they go…?”

“Wait. they’ll come.”

There was another long minute of silence as the four watched behind them intently. Then something shifted in the trees and Mason’s eyes narrowed. “There.”

There was another long pause as the figures moved closer, Mason glanced down at Tord, “Alright bitch, why don’t you do what you do best, yeah?”

The corner of Tord's mouth turned up slightly as his finger slid to the trigger, “Yes sir.”

.:.

Tord had smoked through the entire pack of cigarettes within an hour and he savored the last one as he walked the perimeter of the room for the hundredth time. He paused by the door and looked it up and down before cutting through the middle of the room back to where Vlad had sat down against the glass and closed his eyes, they’d passed the 24-hour mark.

“Hey, Vlad.” Tord tapped on the glass then punched it making the glass reverberate and Vlad blink himself awake. “I want out.”

Vlad rubbed his face and blinked slowly, “What? Kid, no that’s….” he shook his head and refocused on the glass as another punch shook the wall at the word “kid”.

“I’m done with this room. I want to leave.”

“That’s not how this works…” he stood up, finally awake enough to remember what was going on. “You’re not… you know…”

“A pathetic sniveling bitch? Oh right.” Tord sighed, “Silly me.”

“Not my rules.” Vlad looked through the glass.

Tord rolled his eyes, “You make everything difficult.” Then he slammed his head into the glass. Then slammed his head again. And again. And again. And again.

“Tord! What are you…!” Vlad watched in horror as Tord’s face got more and more bloody and the splat of red on the glass got larger and larger. “Stop!!!”

The slamming did stop. Tord slid to the floor unconscious. Vlad stared in horror, torn between looking at the unconscious kid and the bloody splat on the glass where a crack was slowly expanding across the surface.

“Fuck…. Why do you have to… ugh…” he picked up his radio, “doctor, he’s out, let’s get him cleaned up. He’s pretty fucked up.” He shook his head as the doctors slowly returned and Lerkson appeared.

“Here to take the dog back to its kennel.” Lerkson growled at the sight of the body, “Finally got one of us then? Those doctors are crazy if they think we’ll just let him kill all of us for their experiments.” He hissed, his hands tightening around the leather handcuffs.

“I take him, not you.” Vlad scowled and grabbed the cuffs.

“No.” Lerkson grabbed them back, “You said it was fucked up and that means it's going to get that shit treated.” His mouth twitched into a grin. “You should take a nap, get rest for a while before you walk it back.”

“And let you be alone with him? I’m not that much of an idiot.” Vlad’s face darkened. “Let’s go.”

They both left the observation room and stepped into the hallway, approaching the door. Vlad punched in the code and they entered the room, overwhelmed by the smell of iron, flesh, and decay. He choked on the stench, the added layer of cigarette smoke making the room almost unbearable.

They stumbled towards the unconscious Tord and quickly secured his wrists and pulled the limp body up off the floor, dragging it roughly out the door. Even Vlad didn’t care much for delicacy after witnessing Tord smash his own head in.

.:.

“200 meters through trees?!?” Paul laughed and tossed the pack of cigarettes at Tord, “That's an impossible shot and you know it.”

“Tell that to the target with a bullet hole right through the center of it!” Tord pulled out a cigarette and lit it quickly. He was still filthy and covered in dirt, but his jacket was spread it out to dry off in the sun as the two of them sat on the metal roof of the barracks. “I don’t know… I have a good feeling about this group… I think maybe, since I’m older, it will go better.”

“Kid…” Paul looked down, unable to look at the hopeful expression, “I wouldn’t… get too excited. They all start out ok.”

“He let me take the shot.” Tord frowned and took a long drag on the cigarette. In the morning light, even through the dirt and under the scars, he looked young. Maybe it was the large gray eyes full of pride at something he’d done for once, maybe the accomplishment of having succeeded, or maybe it was just foolish hope of things improving. “It’s going to get better. I know it is. They don’t look at me like I’m a child.”

Paul sighed and put a hand on his shoulder, “Yeah… maybe. But let’s focus on the positive: this shot?”

“Actually it was three of them.” Tord looked back at Paul, “Vlad took credit for two, Mason took one. It was better for the team score if they didn’t know... You know how it is.” He shrugged, one day he’d be able to claim his shots. One day he would be a full soldier. One day he wouldn’t be here anymore.

“Well, we know and that’s the important thing.” Paul half smiled, “You gonna be ok up here? Won’t they be looking for you?”

“Nah, they’re in the showers. I should be ok for a little bit. Sneak back while they’re in class and clean up.” He took another drag on the cigarette. “Yeah… important…” He looked out over the base as it slowly came to life with the day’s routine: companies running together, officers bustling around, people moving in and out of the gate as they pleased. His eyes drifted down to the small pale scar on his forearm.

“Hey, kid… Don’t…” Paul reached over and covered the scar with his hand, “we’ll figure it out, ok? We’ll get it out and then you take credit for all your own shots for the rest of your life. But when the time is right.” His brow knotted in concern, “you know we both wish it could be sooner.”

“Yeah… I know.” He sighed and looked out at the training grounds again, the metal roof was heating up as the sun climbed higher. “Better not take too long or I do it myself and you just have to roll with it.” He said it half joking, but there was an edge to his voice that was filled with determination.

“You know we’d both follow you off a cliff if we had to. But I didn’t practically raise you to be an impulsive idiot. Use your head. When the time is right, you’ll know.”

“Damn straight.” Tord took one final drag and extinguished the cigarette on the roof, then slid to the edge and dropped the ten feet to the ground. He pulled his jacket on and wandered back into the barracks to clean his rifle.

.:.

There was an awful choking cough as Tord’s eyes opened. The blood dripping down his throat sprayed onto the white coat of the doctor that was wiping iodine across the bloody welt on his forehead.

“For fuck’s sake….” The doctor scowled, “Since when do you wake up so fast? That should have put you out for half a day.”

The sharp pains shooting through his brain made him squint. If his hands had been free, he would have covered his eyes to shield them from the bright light. “I’ll make a note for next time.” Tord swallowed and tried to clear his throat.

It was true, he’d never been awake in this room before and it was almost surprising how little security was present: just his usual cuffs secured to the metal table. Tord glanced around and sat up slightly taking in the small room with first aid supplies and the table.

“Is this where the magic happens? Where I get pieced together again?” the sarcasm practically dripped from his voice.

The doctor didn’t reply and picked up a radio, “Send the suit in. The little shit woke up.”

“Ah, right, the suit.” Tord lay back wincing as another wave of pain radiated through his head, “The only thing stopping me from snapping your neck like that one guard before, how could I forget. All of my impulse control in the form of one singular bad soldier.”

The door opened in time for Vlad to catch the last part and he sighed heavily, clearly annoyed by all of this. “Impulse control is here. Keep quiet, Tord, you’ve caused enough trouble today.” But he stayed by the door instead of moving into the room.

“Scared?” Tord winced again, his face softening slightly, “was I a bad soldier? Did the other one not follow orders?”

Vlad’s eyes narrowed slightly, “Yeah. Now be good and shut up.” He looked at the doctor nervously, “You almost finished?”

The doctor wiped the iodine roughly across Tord’s forehead then grabbed a damp rag to wipe off the dried blood. “Almost.” He sighed and wiped down both of Tord’s hands and his face, revealing the pale freckled face underneath, the large eyes filled with pain as they looked at the doctor for any sign of sympathy.

“How did I hurt my head?” He blinked, confused.

“You did it to yourself. Don’t you remember?” Vlad crossed his arms, his frown deepening, “You wanted out.”

“Oh.” The response was so innocent.

“Done.” The doctor stepped back and peeled his gloves off, “next time stay unconscious until I'm done. I don’t like patients who talk.” He motioned for Vlad to take Tord before he left the room.

Vlad carefully unclipped the restraints from the table and then clipped them together in front before pulling Tord up to seated. “Come on. Back to your room.”

Tord swung his legs over the side of the table and jumped down easily. The innocence had faded to confident ease for a moment as he moved quickly. “You seem upset… did I-- did the killer hurt you?” the moment had been fast and now he looked up again with his large eyes questioning.

“No.” Vlad pulled him out the door and down the hall, “been awake for 36 hours, no thanks to you I might add. Just go back into your hole and give me a break.” His voice was strained as if he was trying very hard to not yell.

“I'm sorry…”

“Not your fault entirely.” Vlad sighed as they meandered through the twisting maze of white halls, “Shouldn’t even fucking be back here. Could have lived your life out about as normal as you could have. Gotten a girlfriend or something. Ah who am I kidding? You couldn’t even make a goldfish like you. Not even your roommates cared that you left.” He shook his head, “Knew you were a piece of work but I never figured EVERYONE would hate you. Tch.”

“What…?” Tord’s voice cracked as he stopped. His face was something Vlad had never seen before: a mix of hurt and sadness that looked like it cut deeper than anything else. “What do you mean…?”

Vlad scowled, he hadn’t meant to let it slip but his agitation and annoyance were growing by the second from lack of sleep, “Are you really all that shocked?” he gave a yank on Tord’s arm as he pulled Tord along again, “The way you terrorized them? Threatened that one so badly he didn’t even question it when a stranger showed up and dragged you away? You think he MISSES you? Probably celebrating everyday he doesn’t have to see you.” He snorted, “Face it, Tord, the only person who ever cared about you really was your father, even if it was only caring about what he could MAKE you do.”

“Don’t.” Tord’s jaw clenched as they came to a stop in front of the metal door to his room. His entire body went rigid.

“Don’t what? Tell you the truth? Or should I lie to you like those two traitors did? Give you some shit like hope?” Vlad punched in the code angrily, “I’m not your fucking friend. I’m not on your side. And you know what? Because of YOU my life has been ruined and shot to hell. Have a reality check, bastard, this is your life now. You’re just a fucking dog to take orders.” He pushed Tord in roughly and followed behind, grabbing the chain from the floor. “This is your life and no one CARES!”

Tord stumbled in, eyes wide with shock as he numbly watched Vlad attach his hands to the end of the chain. The words stung like ice shards in his chest. He looked up as Vlad turned to leave, “wait…”

Vlad paused, the guilt of what had slipped out making him wince slightly, “what do you want.”

“Wait… because… you’re right.” The voice sounded so small and broken, so hollow as the sound waves fell dead against the concrete walls of the room.

Vlad sighed, “Go to sleep, Tord.”

There was a long pause, the room falling so silent and still that the air ducts in the hallway sounded like a thunderstorm. “I’ve slept long enough.”

The only movement Vlad felt was the air shifting around him but it wasn’t enough time to react as the chain was wrapped tightly around his neck and pulled tightly as the full weight of Tord crashed into him from behind then pulled him farther back into the room, kicking the door closed.

Tord gripped Vlad tightly, knocking him to the floor and pulling the chain tight then smirking slightly as he saw Vlad’s face turn deep red as the airflow restricted, the eyes looking at him pleadingly. “I think it’s time to wake up.” He grinned and in the fluorescent lights, his eyes shimmered red behind the gray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope you don't mind my personal self-indulgence into backstory. I think it's always fun to weave past moments into narrative because they just lend so much depth to who characters are more than I could hint at without them. plus of course, there's always more ways to incorporate some of my fav characters back into such a heavily headcanon work. ah well XD anyways, thanks for reading!


	5. Breathe Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now is the time to move. Tord takes the chance to do what he needs to do to free himself.
> 
> Recommended Listening: "Animal I Have Become" by Three Days Grace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Just dropping this note here to say that this chapter is a little bit more violent than the other chapters and a bit more gorey as well! lots of people die! also dogs... yeah... So if that's something you're sensitive too, please know that it's ahead and its here.

Tord kept his grip tightly on the chain as he pinned Vlad to the floor. His face was a mask of determination, unfeeling and uncaring as he watched Vlad’s eyes roll back into his head and he finally fell limp. Then he stood and looked up at the security camera and grinned then flipped it off.

His next move was to rifle through Vlad’s pockets and find the keys that he used for the cuffs. Once he held the small key in his hand, he unlocked the cuffs, freeing his wrists on his own. Then he clipped them onto Vlad.

“Nothing personal, just can’t have you ruining this.” He spoke to the unconscious figure and smiled as he pet him on the head. “Now, I know you have a weapon.”

After a thorough search of Vlad, he found two pistols and one smaller handgun, a few full clips, a taser, and a large knife. He snorted as he slid the holster on and pocketed the knife and taser. “They let you play with these? You couldn’t even handle a rifle.” He shook his head and looked at the door, holding both pistols.

There was no sound from out in the hallway. He squinted at it then grinned, “You clever bastard.” he shook his head and looked back at the security camera, “If he doesn’t come out and seal the door it doesn’t lock? Is that it?”

Tord pulled the door open and stepped into the hallway a little surprised to find it empty still. Weird, He’d figured as soon as the camera caught him in action they’d send someone, but it felt like they just hadn’t bothered. “Your mistake.” He kicked the door closed and shot one round through the control panel hearing the locks click into place and the door seal shut.

“Now who do I go for first?” He breathed in deeply and sighed, this was about to feel amazing. He started down the hallway and kept the Pistol ready. His eyes scanned every side hall and room he passed but it seemed like it was deserted. This wasn’t normal.

He was about to turn down another hallway when he saw a scientist poring over a clipboard as he walked. Within seconds of spotting him, Tord had pinned the man to the wall with the gun to his stomach and a hand over his mouth. “Hey. Where is all this legendary security I was told I earned.” He whispered it through clenched teeth.

The scientist looked horrified as he tried to struggle free and shook his head “No”.

Tord rolled his eyes and leaned in close again, “You die now or after you talk. Either way I get what I want.”

There were some muffled words from under Tord’s hand so released the doctor’s mouth, “Night shift--” It was the only words the poor man managed to squeeze out.

“What?” Tord laughed, then he laughed louder and dropped the scientist and stopped back, “Oh that’s beautiful. He has a fucking night shift? As if I would care if any of you assholes needed sleep.” He rolled his eyes then shot the scientist straight through the forehead watching the blood and gray matter instantly stain the pure white wall behind him as the limp body slid to the floor. “There. Goodnight.”

Tord continued on, killing anyone he saw on sight but disappointingly there were no guards. He’d been hoping for them. It had been the first thing he wanted to do when he made his move. He wanted to kill at least three of them. He sighed and went into the main control room of the lab.

The looks of surprise on the technicians faces as he strolled in and started shooting without even batting an eyelash were almost enough to make him forget that he hadn’t seen any Cera squad members yet. Once the room was littered with lifeless bodies, he started looking around.

Blood red stained the walls and pooled on the floor, splattering all over the keyboards and screens. There was a line of monitors that looked like the security system. Tord frowned as he looked at Vlad still lying on the floor of his cell. Then he checked the others, one for the room he recognized as the space where they would put him for testing, the small first aid room, another room that looked like a locker room, then a room with bunk beds in it. He sat down in one of the desk chairs and thought for a moment, facing all of them at once would probably be a mistake even if the idea of taking them down together made him feel giddy. He could go straight for the top, just slip out while everyone was asleep and no one knew any better.

While he was thinking his eyes fell on an old wired phone. He tilted his head as he looked at it and rolled over seeing a list of extensions next to it. “Oh, this will be rich.” He grinned. He picked the extension he needed and dialed quickly.

While it rang Tord looked over the gun in his hand, at least Vlad took good care of his shit, it was beautifully clean. There was the sound of papers shuffling on the other end of the line that pulled Tord’s mind back to the moment.

“Doctor, is there an update?”

“I have an update for you: you’re a self-serving prick son of a bitch with a limp dick.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line then, “Tord.”

“Hello father.”

“How are you calling this number?”

Tord paused and looked offended for a moment, “I really think you should put the pieces together yourself.” He leaned forward onto the desk, “I’m disappointed. See, I was under the impression you thought I was a threat and then I go through all the effort of escaping only to find out that it’s bed time so you leave me unguarded?”

“You haven’t escaped shit.”

“Oh right, like your little toy soldiers will match up? What’s to stop me from getting up those elevators and going right into your office? I know the way. If you truly realized what I was capable of you would have been more careful.”

“What’s that supposed to mean.”

The door opened behind Tord and he didn’t even glance back as he sent a bullet straight through the chest of the doctor who had come to check in on things.

“What was that noise.”

“One question at a time, Father.” Tord spat the word out bitterly, “First, I mean that if you wanted me to be stuck down here then you shouldn’t have shown me how to get out. Second, that was just another one of your night shift doctors who just bit the dust and unless you want more of them to die, I would suggest you try and stop me.”

“Scientists are expendable.”

“I’m sure they don’t feel that way, though I assume you carry that logic with every person who works for you.”

“Listen to me, bastard.” The voice on the phone fell deep and menacing, “I still have you trapped down there like a rat in a maze that I designed. I can unleash a pack of dogs who all crave your blood every single day. I can set 30 men after you who can’t stop themselves from ripping you apart. I can break you all over again as many times as I have to, so tell me, brat, why should I be worried about you doing shit?”

Tord smiled, “You want to go to war? Then do it. Otherwise, when the sun hits your office it will be the last thing you see as I bleed you dry and watch your lifeless corpse stain your expensive carpets.” Then he slammed the phone down.

Now that was invigorating. He smiled and set back for a moment, watching for any movement on the cameras. He stood up and went through the pockets of the doctors. They didn’t have any weapons on them that he could use but he did find two packs of cigarettes, a lighter, and ID badges with at least moderate to high security clearance. Once he was done with that, he dragged the bodies into the room and piled them up in one corner.

When he was done inside the control room he stepped out into the hall. The moment he closed the door alarms blared and all the lights were cut off and the emergency lights kicked on leaving the hallways in semi darkness and the sound of the sirens bouncing off the walls. Red warning lights spun sending bright red swathes of light through the halls and into every corner. Tord paused and looked around calmly then pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a long drag as he heard the rushing of people in the distance, “My move.”

Tord strolled towards the barracks and the sounds of movement. He did need more weapons after all and the chances that the soldiers kept their weapons close at hand was high. Most of the people he passed on his way there were lab techs and people in lab coats. He shot down mercilessly, leaving a trail of dead bodies, blood, and viscera splattered across the walls and the floor.

The first soldier he saw step out of the barracks was an older one. He remembered the name of course, Carson. Carson who had taken so much pleasure at tying his wrists to the electric fence that had run the perimeter of the base and leaving him there until the proximity alarms that tracked his movement alerted the guards to cut him down and free him. Tord smirked and aimed a shot straight between his eyes. 

The bullet went straight through the man’s head splattering the door behind it with blood and clear thin liquid as well as gray matter. Already the smell of the carnage in the hallway was overwhelming from all the other dead bodies littered around. But Tord breathed in and smiled at the sulphureous scent of iron and gunpowder. It was just like home.

Inside the room everyone froze. Some were half dressed, some of the soldiers were just grabbing their weapons when Carson had come crashing back through the door, his body propping it open so they could look out and see the outline of Tord’s figure in the half light of the hallway, the spikes of hair illuminated by the red warning lights rotating around.

Tord took one more step forward so they could see his face calmly smoking a cigarette as he smiled then aimed his pistols directly at all of them. “I’m back. Who wants to play?”

“Get cover!” Mason shouted over the sound of the beacon as he dove to the side as Tord unleashed a hailstorm of bullets into the room. “Get cover and return fire!” Mason felt his heart hammering in his chest, “Incapacitate! Do not kill! Repeat, do not kill!”

Within seconds Tord was in the doorway, picking up Carson’s weapon and firing throughout the entire room, a few soldiers falling instantly. Others had made it to cover in time and were trying to finish getting ready. After ensuring they were thoroughly spooked, Tord quickly grabbed the few clips Carson had on his belt, slung the AK-47 he’d picked up over one shoulder and sprinted back out.

Tord tore through the hallways, making turns and finding his way into the locker room where, after opening a few of the lockers, managed to find a small first aid kit, a few more knives, and more ammunition for the small handgun.

“Think faster, they will be here soon.” He reloaded the assault rifle. “They outnumber you. They're idiots but there’s more of them. You’ll never get them all.” Then he paused, “I don’t want to kill them all NOW. that wouldn’t be fun.” He shook his head, “break them up. Small groups. They come in together then you’re screwed.”

Tord heard the echoes of boots sprinting down the hall. he looked up and finished arming himself, pulling out one of the knives he’d found and climbing on top of a bank of lockers disappearing into the shadows in the upper half of the room.

A small group of three soldiers entered: Alberston, Solberg, and Ness. The three of them glanced around the room as they entered and broke up to explore different corners.

Tord watched silently, waiting for Ness to step out of view of the others behind the lockers. The second he disappeared Tord dropped to the floor silently behind him and covered his mouth, slitting his throat in one fluid movement then lowering him to the floor.

Once the first was down, Tord moved towards the other two sticking to the shadows and moving so he was directly behind Albertson and proceeded to slit his throat as well. This time Solberg saw the crimson fountain erupt from his friend’s throat and watched him drop lifeless to the floor revealing Tord behind him.

“Hello.” Tord smirked and launched at Solberg who didn’t even have time to respond.

They fell to the floor and in a matter of seconds Solberg was bleeding out of the wound from between his ribs. Tord stayed put on top of him holding his mouth shut, “You know, I find this highly unfair that you get to die so quickly.” He looked with disdain at the frightened eyes of the man under him, “If I had it my way, I’d kill you all slowly one by one.” Then he reached up and closed off the man’s nose.

There was muffled yelling as terror at the loss of oxygen kicked in and his collapsing lung made Solberg try to hyperventilate and he tried to use his last frantic movements to free himself. Tord looked down passively, just patiently waiting for the man to stop struggling. “Be thankful that I’m against a wall, soldier.”

The body stopped shaking and moving and the eyes fell vacant. Then Tord stood up and went about collecting what he could. At this point he just needed more ammunition but Ness also had a pack of cigarettes which he added to his collection.

Now Tord was ready, he cracked his neck and stepped out of the locker room, an assault rifle in each hand as he moved into the hallway, walking at first then jogging. Then sprinting through the maze under the Prime Minister’s mansion.

Within a matter of hours in a flurry of bullets and blood splatters he’d eliminated the majority of the soldiers. The members, old and new, of the squad, had yet to land a scratch on him. He moved silent and deadly from group to group picking them off one by one and taking whatever ammunition he could carry.

Tord paused, standing up from his latest kill. “I know you’re watching. Come out of the shadows, doctor.” He took a drag on his cigarette, his bloody hands staining the paper red. “Doctor?” He walked quickly down one hall that led to a dead end where he saw the German man cowering in the corner with a gun in his shaking hands.

“Aw don’t you like seeing your experiment in action? Or are you realizing just now that you can’t control me?” Tord took a step forward.

“You are a mistake.” The doctor stood his ground, still shaking.

“Yes.” Tord grinned, “A mistake that you created in a way.” He took another step forward. The doctor fired the gun but missed by a wide margin. Tord held a finger up to his lips, “You’d best be quiet before you draw the rest of the soldiers this way. You’d really hate to see what I’m going to do to them.”

“You don’t scare me, dog!” the doctor fired again, this time Tord dodged with terrifying speed.

“You never scared me. either.” Tord rushed forward and punched him in the stomach, catching him as he collapsed forward, taking the gun from his hand easily then dropping the man to the floor placing one boot on his chest. “Should I lock you in a cage? Prod you with needles and tubes and strap you down while you scream out in agony? Or would you like to die quickly?”

Now that the doctor was lying on his back staring up into the eyes of the child he’d spent years experimenting on, “Do what you want to me, I’ll see you in hell.”

“Then I can kill you again when I get there.” Tord aimed down at the man’s face and fired without hesitation. He watched the blood explode across the floor, the spray hitting the walls and hitting his uniform as he stared down with a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Tord’s head snapped up to see a group of five led by Mason moved in on the entrance to the dead end he was in. When he saw mason he smiled, “Nice to see you again. And who is that with you? Lerkson? Brendol? Well the gang’s all here.”

Mason aimed directly at Tord’s chest, four red dots rising up to join his, “Give yourself up, there’s no escape from here.”

“Funny you should put it that way, Mason, are you trapped too?” Tord took his foot off the doctor’s chest and stepped forward, “He keeps all of you on a tighter leash than I have. Given that I was able to slip off it and you’ve done nothing but sit there and take it in the ass for all these years.”

“Shut up, bitch.”

“Mason, you know he’s lumping us all together. You can’t tell me that your little pretend title of ‘captain’ means jack shit outside of this lab.”

Lerkson fired a warning shot over Tord’s shoulder but he didn’t flinch at all.

“All of you! The best trained soldiers in all of Norway and he keeps you down here? He’s scared of you!” The muzzle of Mason’s rifle dropped ever so slightly. “That man only has the power that you give him. He made you fear him so much you don’t see him shaking in his boots every time he has to talk to me and not piss himself.”

“SHUT UP!”

“Or what? You’ll incapacitate me?” Tord raised an eyebrow, “I’ll level with you. Most of your men are dead. Not one has been able to touch me. If you think a few bullet holes in my limbs will stop me from doing anything then you really are stupid.”

Brendol lowered his weapon, “Hey dog, turn yourself in and maybe we’ll let you go if you let us have a go at you.”

“Your habits toward beastiality are none of my business. And it’s far too bold of you to act like you’re in control of anything right now.” Tord raised his weapon at the group, “The only way you win is if I’m dead and if you do that you all die. I think I’m holding all the cards.”

Tord stepped toward Mason and noticed the red dots all move off of his chest, good. He looked Mason in the eye, “Why would you take orders from someone like him who has no concept of what it’s like to stare down the barrel of a gun? Why should a soldier listen to anyone who has no idea what he's talking about?” He lowered his own gun, “Why should you be afraid of him when you hold a weapon in your hands and even your body is a weapon? What could he ever do to stop you?”

Mason shifted, uncertain what the words meant. “You talk a lot more now.”

“Well I have less things in my mouth now, don’t I?” Tord snarled and looked at Lerkson.

“Why should I listen to you?” Mason looked down at Tord, still at least a foot taller than him.

Tord looked up, his gray eyes intense, “Because I can continue to kill you all one at a time and save you for last and really RELISH in it, or you can live and rid yourselves of the man who has turned a pack of ferocious wolves into dickless, spineless, yes men.” he stepped closer, his head barely reached mason’s chin, “And you know that I can follow through on every threat I’ve made.”

“What’s in it for us?” Brendol scowled, still aiming at Tord, “We have shit right now, I want to know I ain’t gonna have shit again.”

“What’s in it for you?” Tord looked at him and laughed, “Your life, asshole.” He spat at the man, “All of you were first on my list to kill for reasons I’m sure you can recall explicitly. But you were fortunate enough to not find me first. What’s in it for you is a chance to actually do what you were trained to do and find glory being soldiers. By saving a country where this lunatic psychopath of a Prime Minister took his best men and locked them in a basement to babysit his bastard.”

“That’s not enough.” Lerkson looked down at him, “I want my dog back.”

Tord paused and turned slowly to look at Lerkson, “Tell me, Lerkson, are you going to get it by listening to the man who took it away?” He walked right up to Lerkson, “I know you’re not THAT stupid.”

Mason shook his head, “What’s your point bastard, get to it.”

“Help me take him out. Stop taking orders from an asshole. Stop being his puppets.” He stepped back in front of the whole group, “I can get you out of here, but you have to listen to everything I say. You don’t get out of this hell without me.”

Halvorsen shifted uncomfortably in the back and lowered his gun, “Fuck. The bitch is making sense.”

“Mason?” Tord looked up at him. “A captain needs a commander.”

There was a long moment where Mason glared down at the teenager in front of him. The determined gray eyes of a kid carrying himself like an adult draped in more weapons than a seasoned soldier. He frowned for a second as he tried to remember who he was talking to. The bitch, the bastard, the dog. The weak link of his squad. The one they had to discipline. The one who got away. That made Mason look up, if he’d gotten away once, then this was the only person who could get away again.

“Today we get out of here.” Mason nodded, “what do we need to do.”

The smile that spread across Tord’s face was terrifying. His eyes got a dangerous red glint in the rotating strobe lights that filled the hallways. “Any squad members that are left will join up with us. We need to get to the elevator.

He walked back and grabbed the ID badge from the doctor’s corpse, “The good Doctor here has given us a way out.”

Mason shook his head, “That won’t work. They cut the power to the entire grid for the basement level.”

Tord nodded, “then I guess we’re in for a climb.” he readjusted his grip on his gun and walked through the group and down the hall, “I hope you ladies are up for it.” He took the lead as the group fell in behind him.

They moved through the hallways towards the block of elevators that connected the basement to the rest of the mansions. As they worked their way over they picked up more squad members until there was a group of about 14. A lot of them looked at Tord skeptically as Mason explained the new situation but they fell in with little convincing.

They were within 500 feet of the elevator when Tord motioned for them to stop. He heard a sound that was different from the alarm siren, a slight growl that didn’t blend in with the noises around him. “Hold.” He held up one hand then froze.

Across from him, blocking the way to the elevators was a pack of snarling Dobermans milling around and drooling. Tord’s lip curled up in a sneer as he shook his head.

“Kill them all.” He aimed straight into the group just as one of them caught his scent on the air and turned to face him.

“SHOOT THEM NOW!” He yelled it at the pack of soldiers who were confused at the sight when the first dog turned, barked, and took off sprinting at him.

Left with no choice Tord opened fire hitting the lead dog right before the teeth clamped down on his leg. But the rest of the pack had started moving all at once in his direction. It took them seconds before he had one knock him over and go straight for his neck which he managed to just twist out of the way and have his shoulder get bitten instead. He felt more teeth on one of his arms, starting to pull at his limb while another grabbed his leg.

Tord thought he was dead. Once the teeth sank in there was no getting them back off again, he felt the tearing of his uniform and sharpened points sinking into his skin, pulling and ripping as they bit down. The smell of iron filled his nostrils as he screeched and tried to use his free hand to grab his knife.

There was the sound of bullets banging off walls as a hailstorm of suppressing fire went sailing into the hallway and beat back the pack of dogs. Then Tord felt his leg free. And he was able to pull himself up, throwing off the dog on his arm and looking down the hallway seeing the piles whimpering and wounded animals covered in blood. The floors slick with red and the walls covered in the splattered remains of bullets that had found their targets.

“You alright?” Mason stepped up next to Tord.

“Oh, I’m ready to end this.” Tord scowled and shook off the terror that had gripped him. He glanced at Mason then moved forward through the bloody mess towards the elevators.

It didn’t take them long to force open the doors of the powerless elevator and then pry open the hatch on top. Tord was the first to jump up and catch the edge, pulling himself through the hole on top of the elevator car. Once he was in the shaft he looked around, the electrical and inner structure of the shaft had enough hand holds on it for him to see a way up.

“Mason, make sure the rest get up and follow the path. I'm going now.” Then he nodded at Mason and started the long and treacherous climb up 30 floors to reach the mansion above their heads.


	6. Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Prime Minister waits to hear the result of the uprising in the basement.
> 
> Recommended Listening: "Skyfall" by Adele

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! haha did I just finish something? unheard of. But for real, as with other chapters, this one follows that theme of dark and gorey, there is some references to su*cide as well. If that's not your vibe, just know it's in there!

The city of Oslo sparkled outside the large picture windows of Prime Minister Lars Hagen’s office. He had taken a moment to glance up from the paperwork on his desk to look across the shadowy buildings and twinkling lights of the city in the late fall night. He was proud of what he had accomplished here: staying in office far longer than any other elected official with the highest popularity ratings that were unseen before his time. He allowed himself a small smile.

When he turned back to his desk his eyes fell on the black rotary phone he used for internal calls only. The phone that he’d received Tord’s last threat over before sending in his top troops to extinguish the problem. It hadn’t rung since. In this case, he loathed to accept no news as good news. The threat of sunrise being the last thing he would see didn’t scare him and he would never admit it even if it did.

There was a rapid knock at the door that made Lars’s head snap up, “Enter.”

A nervous looking soldier with a young face slid in and closed the door behind himself, “Prime Minister, sir, the dogs were released into the basement level, sir.” He saluted, his hand trembling slightly.

Lars nodded and approached, noticing the nervousness taking over this young man’s form, “What’s your name, solider?”

“Hansen, sir.” He stayed saluted and refused to look directly at the prime minister as he approached.

“Hansen.” The Prime minister stopped and gave him a small smile, the kind of warm smile that had won him the popular vote so many years running, “You fear a threat that doesn’t exist. There is nothing more secure in all of Norway than this building and this office.”

“Of course, sir.” The soldier nodded and tried to look more confident. “It’s just that we’ve lost so many already—”

“Lost?”

“Dead, sir.”

“It’s nothing more than a feeble escape attempt. You think we would be so callous as to let experimental projects run loose without limit? We have backups in place. It will never escape.” Lars was getting annoyed now, people were supposed to trust him. They were supposed to listen when he gave them words of encouragement. “Return to your post. Remember the experiment is only one.”

“Yes sir.” Hansen nodded and turned to leave, sliding back through the door the way he came.

Lars watched him go then checked his watch, it had been hours ago that he’d received the call. Hours between the ultimatum and there had been no sign of any success of Tord in the basement. Of course, he had nothing to worry about. If the bitch didn’t run itself into the ground on its own, then his old squad mates would put it back on its knees again. It was really very simple.

He glanced out at the city again as he poured himself a drink from the crystal decanter on his desk, letting the brown liquid swirl in the glass before he took a sip. There were a million other thoughts in his mind and the last thing he wanted to have to think about was Tord.

The minutes ticked by as Lars paced the length of the carpet in his office. As much as he forced his mind to not think about the bastard, there was only so much he could manage to hold back. The image of the small child in a dress uniform staring back at him from across the table at dinner stayed with him and he let out a deep sigh as the conversation he’d tried his best to ignore played for the millionth time in his mind

.:.

“Why do you hate me so much?” Tord shifted uncomfortably in the tailored uniform jacket. His fingers itched to undo the top button and scratch furiously at the old scabs healing on his neck getting aggravated by the rough fabric.

Lars glanced up, an unamused look on his face as he was interrupted from his dinner. He made a show of chewing very slowly and swallowing and taking a sip from his wine glass before answering. “Because you should have never existed. You’re a mistake. Your mother was a mistake. And she thought she could make a quick buck by threatening the most powerful man in the country.”

“Don’t talk about that bitch in front of me.” A blonde woman in a sparkling gown seated next to Lars glared over at the Prime Minister and took a VERY long drink of her wine before waving a servant over to refill her glass.

Tord watched the woman carefully from across the table as his hands twitched, “That was my mother, not me.”

“May as well be the same.”

“But it’s not.” Tord leaned back in his chair, “You are going to fucking ridiculous lengths to take out your anger on a woman who is dead and has been dead for 16 years. Don’t you think that’s a little stupid?”

“No.” Lars’s eyebrow twitched.

“You’re pathological.”

“Don’t you ever shut up?” the blonde woman rolled her eyes, “I don’t even know why we bother with this once a year, you just get more and more disgusting every time you set foot in this house.” She leaned against the arm of her dining chair, “Lars, dear, put it back where it came from, I don’t want to see it.”

Tord’s jaw clenched, “Yeah, you get uglier by the year too, but you don’t hear me whining about it.” The words had barely escaped his lips when a full wineglass went sailing across the table and smashed against his face. The purple liquid soaked quickly into the navy-blue wool and stained across the gold detailing. Tord barely flinched as the small bits of shattered glass dropped down the front of his jacket onto his lap.

“Bitch.” He snarled across the table as the soggy fabric started to stick to him. “How about you control your whore?”

Lars watched on unfazed. “Don’t talk about my wife like that.”

“Your wife is a fucking bitch.” If he hadn’t been cuffed to the chair by one wrist, Tord would have gotten up and left. He could have walked to the ballroom and hid in the bathroom until this nightmare of a day was over with, but an unfortunate incident with the general involving some missing ammunition that he’d gotten blamed for meant extra security measures were required.

“Tord. Shut up or you’ll spend this evening in the kennel.” Lars looked up, his eyes glinting in the light of the chandelier, a small smirk puling at the corner of his mouth as he watched the boy squirm at the thought of staying with the dogs. “I hate you because that’s all you deserve. Who likes a mistake? Who would house a mistake? Who would let the world see their mistake?”

The conversation was taking a turn that Tord didn’t like. He’d asked a simple question and should have expected an answer like this, “No one.”

“So why do you think I keep you locked away? Why could I possibly have put you into a place run by the State so you couldn’t get into trouble? You should be thanking me for giving you purpose and not killing you.” At this point the smirk was plastered across Lars’s face, “I have no reason to ever give you anything and yet here you are. Are you forgetting that your life is a gift from me?”

“Ah right, happy birthday to me.” The fear had slid off Tord’s face only to be replaced by a scowl, “Is that what you got me? One more year to live miserably? At this point you’re better off just killing me.”

“And lose my test subject?”

Tord shifted again, blinking as a shudder ran through him. He could practically feel the needles of the doctors pricking his arms. He had to blink again to refocus on his plate of barely touched food instead of the feeling of leather straps holding him down. “Just kill me.”

“Never. Give you what you want? I would never be that generous to you.”

“If you don’t, I’ll take care of it for you.” The scowl deepened on Tord’s face.

The lazy smile that replaced the smirk was even more chilling than the previous expression, “Let’s not go down that road again. We both know you couldn’t even do it. Because for all your talk and your threats you still think there’s hope of things changing and to kill yourself would be admitting defeat.” Lars leaned back and took another long sip of wine, “Besides, you learned that lesson that hard way, didn’t you?”

The cold damp fabric sent a chill down Tord’s spine as he kept a steady glare at his father across the table. “I guess that means I’ll just have to kill you first.”

“If that’s what you want to live for, then at least don’t be a little bitch about it.” Lars shook his head. Hearing the threats from Tord was like the constant yapping of a lap dog trying to take down a German shepherd. “You will never be able to lay a hand on me, boy.” He started laughing. The longer he looked into the serious gray eyes of the 16-year-old across the table, the louder he laughed, “You’re nothing except what I want you to be. Nothing but a damn bastard who thinks that it has a chance to be something.” He stifled another round of laughter before nodding to himself, “Any other threats to throw at me today, dog?”

Seeing his father laugh so hard in his face made the scowl deepen as his body went rigid. He gripped the handles of his silverware so tightly his knuckles turned white. “I don’t need to threaten you more. I will kill you. I will rip down every single piece of what you’ve built and the last thing you will ever see is me laughing in your face.”

“I can’t handle much more of this conversation.” The blonde woman stood up with her wine glass, “Lars, just give it the shit for it’s birthday and put it back on the base.” Then she half walked half stumbled out of the room.

“Ah, right.” Lars stood up and walked around the table to where Tord was seated. “I hear you’ve started smoking, should have expected something like you to need a disgusting habit.” He dropped a box of cheap cigarettes on Tord’s lap, “I hope this new habit doesn’t affect any of the experiments you’re part of.”

He was about to step away when he paused and turned back to glance at Tord sitting unmoving. Lars grinned and leaned forward, holding up one hand and pointing to a large silver ring on his middle finger bearing the family crest, “If you ever get to kill me, you can have this.”

Tord could smell the wine on his father’s breath as his eyes settled on the ring. He fixated on it, how the light from the room reflected off its surface, the shapes that made up the family crest he’d been denied his whole life, and the reflection of his own face staring back at him. “I’ll cut it off your bloated corpse. I don’t need it given to me. I’ll take it.” He glanced up just in time to feel a hand yank his hair hard, slamming his head back before he could process the pain of the blow that twisted his neck sharply to side leaving a few bleeding scratches across his cheek.

“Take it back. We’re done here.” Lars spat at the bastard in front of him, “don’t let it run.”

.:.

The first light of dawn hit the window in Lars’s office, illuminating his face with the cold pink rays. He glanced out across the city once again, no one would ever take it from him. He downed the last of his drink before walking to his desk to check on the status of things in the basement. Clearly, no news had to be good news.

As he reached for the phone on his desk, the silence in the office was shattered by the sound of gunshots down the hallway. There were more after the first, then a long pause before they started again. Lars watched the door to his office and swallowed, his mouth drying as the sounds crept closer and closer. His hand drifted to the top drawer of his desk where he kept a small handgun for emergencies.

The doors to the office exploded inwards as the body of Hansen fell back into the room, a bullet hole bleeding between two glazed over blue eyes staring up at Lars. Behind him, Tord stepped into the office unceremoniously crushing the man’s chest with his boots as he entered and held up his rifle at the Prime Minister.

“Don’t move.” A smile was plastered across Tord’s blood-splattered face.

Lars froze and put his hands in the air, staring at Tord from across the room, “Well, I guess I underestimated you.”

“And I overestimated you.” Tord kept the rifle aimed high as he crossed the office and pressed the muzzle against Lars’s chest. “I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.”

“Have you? The murder or the responsibility of running a nation?” Lars stared down at his son, “Have you even bothered to think past taking the shot?”

“I don’t need to.” A finger covered in dried blood hovered over the trigger as Tord spoke.

“Well, forgive me. I had no idea you were learning to be a politician on the military base. If I’d known you had useful skills things would have gone differently.” Sarcasm dripped off Lars’s voice.

Tord didn’t answer and stepped back, lowering the rifle and dropping it on the desk. “things will be different from now on.” He grinned and slammed a fist into the side of Lars’s face so fast that his arm was barely visible. He stepped back and watched Lars crumple to the ground at his feet.

Without another word he dragged the body around the desk and into the chair that he had found himself in so many times. Then he pulled the belt off the dead soldier and secured Lars’s wrists tightly, an old trick that had been used on him far too many times. Then he stepped back to sit on the front of the desk where he grabbed a bottle of water and dumped it on the unconscious Prime Minister.

As Tord watched Lars blink himself awake he unholstered the handgun he was carrying and pulled it back and aiming it at the figure, “Let’s talk, shall we?”

“You’re going to make me listen to your sob story before you kill me?” Lars spat, “I think it would be considered a war crime to subject a prisoner to that.”

There was a dark laugh as Tord heard the words, “War crimes? Oh, father, let’s not let the pot call the kettle black.” He smirked, “It would take far too long for me to go through the laundry list of reasons that I hate you.” He kicked himself forward so he could lean into Lars’s face, “Did you see the sun? Do you know what time it is?”

“Then killing me is all you want?”

“Vengeance is all I want. And I will be damned if I don’t get some sort of payment for what you did to me.”

“You’re damned anyways.”

“I don’t think there is one person on this planet who would think that once they found out what I’ve had to live through.” There was a moment where Tord almost looked sad, staring down the sights of the pistol at the snarling face of his father, “But if vengeance damns me regardless, I’d go to hell a million times over just to watch the light leave your eyes.”

The sun rose a little higher, turning the light in the office from a soft pink to an even softer orange. “If you talk so big about murder then do it. Or was it just the empty promises of a hurt child?” Lars looked from the barrel of the gun to Tord’s face, still so young and so much like it had been the last time they’d exchanged threats and promises of pain.

It was uncomfortable how even with their roles reversed, Lars still stared at him with disdain. Tord kept the pistol aimed at the man’s head, letting himself feel the silence and try and find the joy he had promised himself every time he thought about this moment. “I told you then I didn’t need to threaten you, I’m just going to kill you.”

“Then stop stalling and DO IT!” Lars screamed out the words.

Tord blinked, his mind went blank for a moment, the yelling making his limbs freeze up as his body remembered the things that usually came after angering his father enough for him to raise his voice.

A small smirk appeared on Lars’s face, “And you’re still just a frightened little boy.” He shook his head, “End this charade. You can kill as many of those soldiers as you like, but you can never lay a hand on me.”

“Fuck you.” Tord’s grip tightened on the handle of the gun.

“Oh, I would never lower myself to those standards, but your squad mates are more than willing to do the job for me.” Now Lars looked up again, “If you ever thought you’d be able to conquer everything and be free of any of this? There are some things you will NEVER be able to run away from. Things no matter how much you kill will never go away. Things that regardless of what you do you will never be able to stop feeling.” The grin twisted Lars’s face.

“Shut up!” Tord growled and kicked Lars’s knees, “No, that’s not how this is going to go.” He shook his head and a faint red glint reflected off his irises, “You made a mistake and I’m here to make you pay for it.”

“You’re nothing but a worthless soldier who couldn’t even follow orders.”

“You’re nothing but an overconfident son of a bitch.” Tord grinned, “And now your mistake is going to be your downfall. Your mistake is going to unravel everything you built. your mistake is going to show you what it really means to have power.” As he spoke the doors to the office opened the soldiers who remained from Cera squad filed into the room.

Lars glanced over at them standing around the perimeter of the office, armed and holding their positions, “Get this dog off of me!” He let out a snarl as none of them moved to intervene, “That’s an order! Captain!”

Tord laughed. He threw his head back and his pure unnerving laughing filled the room, “these aren’t your toy soldiers anymore! Dear father, you’ve lost far more than you know. I may still be just a child to most people, barely an adult to others, but this?” he gestured at himself, “this is the weapon you wanted so badly! You succeeded, dad! Your little boy is the best damn soldier you will ever see.” He leaned forward and pressed the tip of the gun into Lars’s forehead, “I am what you made me to be. You made me hate you more than anything and now you get to see that everything you did, all your goals, only led to this moment where you have nothing and I strip away every shred of humanity you ever had.”

Lars sat back, for the first time seeing that he was alone. He glanced past Tord at the city of Oslo in the cold morning sun, his city. “You’ll never succeed. Even if you kill me.”

“Killing you is all I need to do to succeed.” Tord let his finger drift to the trigger as he looked down into his father’s eyes, “when I get to hell and I have to see you again, I’ll give you your ring back, dad.” Then he pulled the trigger.

There was a sickening splattering as the back of the prime minster’s head exploded into a million pieces. Blood and clear fluid covered the floor staining the expensive carpets and splattering across the Tord’s uniform and face. The body fell backwards and went limp in the chair. Tord’s eyes finally looked past the corpse and up at the room of soldiers around him.

Wordlessly, he stepped around to the back, kneeling in the puddle of blood and taking a knife out of his pocket. He quickly sawed off his father’s middle finger and removed the one silver ring that meant more to him than anything else and slid it onto his own filthy index finger.

Mason stepped forward and looked Tord up and down, “Alright Tord, we’ve followed you this far, now what?”

“We keep going.” Tord stood up, the blood staining the knees of fatigues with two brand new soaked patches. “Move through the rest of the mansion and spread the word that I’m in charge now. Reward those who join us. Kill anyone who still shows loyalty to that asshole.” He stepped towards the windows and looked out at the buildings far away in the city, “And Mason?”

“Yeah?”

“Call me Red Leader.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this, it means you've reached the end of my first foray into actually writing some of the ideas I've had for Tord and what I like to have for his backstory! These headcannons are very special to me, Tord is one of my favorite characters to imagine things for and especially where the idea of red leader came from and how it started. I know it doesn't follow the show at all (robots? I don't know her) But regardless it was still very fun to write. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of the characters I wrote to exist in this sort of headcannon version of Tord, so there really isn't much mention of the actual other Eddsworld characters, but hey, my headcannon and my characters! I love them all dearly and especially the story that I've grown to love around Tord.f


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